No direction home
by Man Of Reason
Summary: In the world after the last battle a man struggles to find his place.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing of course, it not mine, it's all RJ's.

A/N: Not sure if this is a one shot or not, anyway enjoy. Sorry for some reason I can't get the spacing at the beginning of the paragraphs to work properly.

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The Anniversary

The streets of Four Kings, the larger then average village on the Caemlyn Road, were full to overflowing with people. Villagers, travelers and merchants in equal number as well as almost every farmer for leagues around had come to Four Kings, swelling the village to near bursting.

The merchants that normally would have departed during the day and even for the previous two had all stayed put, not wanting to be sleeping by the road; leagues shy of any village, on this day. As anyone in any nation, from Illian to Tar Valon, from Tear to the Borderlands would have been able to tell you, today was a day for celebration, to rejoice, for today was the last day of Spring, the day that eight years ago The Dragon Reborn and his armies had assaulted Shayol Ghul and the defeated the shadow. Today had become know as the Festival of Light.

To the people of the world it was the day that the plagues, pestilence and walking dead had stopped. The day the seemingly random acts of evil that had terrorized the population of every nation, as they appeared with no warning, seemingly from nowhere, had stopped. The day the pattern itself seemed to stop unraveling and became fixed once more. It was on this day that people celebrate victory over the Dark One by the Lord of Morning.

As the sounds of merriment drifted up of the street and flittered through his door from the common room below Dalin Zahear grimaced. He peered down at the wine bottle in his hands, thinking of those that should be here, but weren't. In one smooth motion he lifted the bottle to his lips, savoring the taste before carefully placing the bottle on the floor next to the others. Slowly he stood, and as an unnecessary need for caution filled him, he moved to the door to double check it was locked before moving to his saddle bags.

Digging through the layers of clothes so he could reach the bottom of the bag Dalin searched for something he had not looked at in a year, something he both dreaded and longed to see, just to look at was inside, to watch the light bounce of them and feel them in his hands again. The back of his arm brushed against the silk bag first, the only thing in his saddle bags made out of the material, before he firmly grasped it and pulled it out into the light of the room. The two lanterns of either side of the room seemed to flicker when the light hit the bag.

Carefully he returned to the bed that he had been sitting on and, taking another long swallow of the wine, carefully set the bag down on the bed beside him. It was small in size hardly able to hold a handful of coins, made of black silk and tied of by a simple black cord, the only thing he owned of that colour.

Whilst black, the bag seemed to reflect the light and it drew Dalin's eye like nothing else could. After gathering his courage and with one final pull on the wine to finish the bottle, Dalin reached two trembling hands forward, untied the knot and carefully tipped the bag upside down. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed down at his two most precious possessions, at once beautiful and horrendous, priceless yet nothing was worth the price he had paid. At the same time they filled him with pride and shame, joy and anger. On the bed before him lay two pins, one made of silver in the shape of a simple sword, the other sparkled, crafted with gold and rich red emerald, in the shape of a sinuous dragon.

Tentatively Dalin reached out and stoked the sword with his left hand, feeling the texture of the metal for the first time in a year, for only the eighth time since that horrible day eight years ago today, almost precisely eight years since he had last worn them. Quickly he moved over to the dragon, feeling the ridges and grooves that could be seen in the fine craftsmanship of the sparkling creature.

Sadly and with no small amount of anger, Dalin recalled, despite the fact that the Asha'man had been betrayed by the White Tower at the Last Battle, and where left to die on mass, dragon pins such as these where not uncommon, just not real. Just today, he had seen boys wearing such pins made of bronze and lead, grown man as well. He had stopped counting when he reached twenty. It was almost a slap in the face to those that died, to wear them without earning them, even if they where cheap imitations. It was only a small consolation that they where only worn on this day.

Against all his wishes to Dalin's mind remembered scenes that he suppressed every other day of the year but didn't have the willpower on this day. He recalled that after narrowly escaping from Shayol Ghul with his life, just after al'Thor had managed to seal the bore permanently, as they had been ordered, he opened a gateway and left. He remembered his last view of another Asha'man, of those that remained alive, no more than two hundred of the thirteen hundred that had not defected to the shadow with Taim and had followed al'Thor to Shayol Ghul. He remembered landing exhausted on the other side of his gateway in the only place he could think of to go, the Black Tower.

He could still feel his shock, feel it echoed in his bones, at immediately been greeted with the sight of thousands upon thousands of Trollocs streaming over the grounds and, seeing his arrival, having them charge at him as one. He dimly recalled thinking that the shadow must have attacked the Black Tower, and found it empty. Too exhausted to fight he had but one option, flee. Opening another gateway that he barely had the strength to form, he recalled hurling himself through with the gateway closing behind him, cutting three Trollocs in half as it did so. He remembered promptly collapsing to his knees panting for air, then onto his side as his arms could no longer support him. It wasn't long before exhaustion took him.

That was his last memory of the day that they where celebrating in the streets below, his last conscious thought been that many other Asha'man wouldn't make it back from Shayol Ghul. Of those that did almost all where likely to head to the black tower and, if they were anywhere near as exhausted as he, most would be killed before they got their new gateways open. Dalin knew he had just been lucky; that had any Trollocs been any closer, even a single one, he would have died. Fore the split second it would have taken to kill it would have cost him his life, as he would have been overwhelmed.

He remembered wakening up in the middle of the Almoth Plain with the three cut in half dead Trollocs not knowing what to do or where to go. It was then and there that he removed his pins, knowing that it wouldn't be safe to wear them out in the open where no one but the Aes Sedai actually believed _saidin_ was no longer tainted, even though the Aes Sedai had put out a declaration declaring it clean.

Staring down at the beautiful emerald and gold creature in his hands Dalin briefly recalled his fruitless eight year search to find another survivor of that day, for he knew that there were some, if not many, perhaps thirty or forty. So far he had encountered not a single one but, as he came to realize, that was hardly surprising. They were probably just the same as him, alone and bitter, working a normal job while keeping an eye out for other survivors.

Hoping to drown his sorrows Dalin opened his second bottle of wine and took another long swallow. Hoping but not succeeding in removing the bitter taste from his mouth. While he searched for his brothers the world didn't wait. With grim satisfaction he watched from the side lines as the Trollocs spilled forth from the blight under the guidance of the remaining Dreadlords, some former Asha'man but most Black Ajah.

He watched as the Aes Sedai, the remaining armies of the nations south of the blight and the Seanchan struggled to hold them back, year after year until finally three and a half years after the last battle the last Dreadlords, now mostly former Asha'man with only a few Black Ajah left alive, had been killed among the ruined city of Chachin, the former Capital of Kandor. After that the remaining Trollocs had been in disarray and had been easily turned back towards Shayol Ghul. In all, close to three hundred Aes Sedai died in that war, the Second Trolloc war as it was known, double what they lost at the Last Battle. Not one Asha'man gave aid.

Rumor's of the Asha'man where everywhere of course, after just seeming to disappear after the Last Battle speculation was rife, and it seemed the Aes Sedai never gave an answer about their whereabouts, which had become common knowledge. Dalin gave a bitter laugh, remembering that his initial plan had been to follow those rumors until they lead him somewhere but all that had done was lead him straight to the Aes Sedai.

In the beginning those rumors had been real enough, as far as rumors go, but it seemed he wasn't the only one paying close attention to them. After the first few months everywhere he went, to the source of any particular rumor, the Aes Sedai would either already be there or soon would be. It became near impossible for him to ask questions as invariably the fact that a male was asking questions would soon get back to the Aes Sedai. And after he pushed his luck one to many times it did.

Bitterly he recalled the last rumor he chased, five years ago now, a particularly strong one that seemed to be everywhere and always the same version of it was told, which in retrospect should have been all the warning he needed. It was the first time a rumor started up about a man wearing the uniform of an Asha'man with pins described perfectly and all, right down to the shade of red that was in the dragon pin. The man had been in Caemlyn just the day before, so he went.

What he found was a rumor that had been started with the direct purpose of drawing himself, or any other Asha'man for that matter, to Caemlyn, the Aes Sedai where waiting. It was only a great amount of skill, a little luck and the fact that Rand al'Thor had taught him how change his appearance using _saidin_ that he made it into Caemlyn unnoticed. There where groups of Aes Sedai at every gate into the city, with the description and a drawing of the face he had been wearing the last time he had investigated a rumor. Had he tried to turn around he would have been apprehend on the spot.

Once in the city he found that the goldsmith that had made the dragon pins for al'Thor had in fact made some for the Aes Sedai, and that they had been parading a warder dressed as Asha'man. Dalin looked down at his hand, clenched into a fist and remembered his rage at learning that.

Later, after he had slipped away, the Aes Sedai had asked the goldsmith to make more pins, apparently so they could try again with a group of Asha'man, instead of just one. He had flat out refused, no matter how much gold the White Tower offered him, claiming to have had a change of heart and would never make a real pin again unless asked to by an Asha'man. He could still recall that mans shaking face, sweat dripping down of his brow and his stuttering words as he swore under the light in hope of his salvation and rebirth that he would never make another for the Aes Sedai, or anyone else for that matter, unless he already had one.

On impulse Dalin snatched at _saidin_ and wove the mask of mirrors making his clothes look like that of his one time uniform. Quickly he attached his pins to his shirt to make it look like they were where they should have been, stood unsteadily and looked in the mirror. He saw what he knew he would, a man of median height with short cropped brown hair, well muscled and his one time remarkable deep green eyes that now where dull and almost lifeless. Twenty nine years of age yet at first glance appeared much younger while on closer inspection would make him seem years older. Bitter, resentful set to his features to go right along with the drunken look he was sporting at the moment. His unshaven face didn't add to the picture very nicely at all.

Drunkenly laughing to himself he stared at his reflection amusement, in a slightly slurred incredulous voice, Dalin whispered, "this is the man they need?" His reflection laughed right back. In the years following the last battle the Aes Sedai, due to their, as they like to call it, misunderstanding of the battle plan, had found themselves with an unexpected problem.

Males born with the spark that they found could no longer be stilled, they had not the right since their declaration that _saidin_ had been cleansed and they had not the means to teach them due to the fact that it seemed like all the man that had been bonded to Aes Sedai were either dead or their Aes Sedai were. In retrospect the Aes Sedai where desperate.

He later found out in a quite visit to Tar Valon that by the time that they had set that little trap in Caemlyn, they had already found sixteen men born with the spark, twelve of which would die trying to learn to control _saidin. _Despite the mortality rate there was no way that he could bring himself to teach those men. From what he had seen with his own eyes when he had entered the tower disguised as a servant, they wanted to become Aes Sedai, not Asha'man.

Dalin ruefully shock his head and turned away from the mirror, carefully taking the pins off, putting them gently back in the silk bag and removed the mask of mirrors from his body. After carefully putting bag in the bottom of his saddle bags to stay for another year Dalin stumbled over to his bed and collapsed.

He was not a heartless man, though life had done it's best to make him one, he had kept tabs of those men at the White Tower, the four that had survived had gained a rudimentary control of the one power, though one developed a block. At least now when one with the spark went to Tar Valon they had a chance. That lessened the guilt, somewhat. Alcohol did the rest.

Using _saidin_, Dalin quickly snuffed out the lamps, plunging the room into total darkness. Closing his eyes and trying to ignore the feeling that the room was swaying, he tried to get some sleep, after all the merchant train he was guarding was leaving early in the morning and this was the last night he would be in a bed for weeks. At least this time he wouldn't be the only one in a bad way in the morning.

It was nights like these that's his thoughts drifted back to that day eight years ago, a day he wished he had never lived, a day he sometimes wished he had never lived past. It was easier to die in battle a hero, than to live with no direction home. Sleep was a long time in coming that night, the sounds of merriment from outside and below making it near impossible.


	2. A New Begining

Disclaimer: still own nothing, of course.

A/n: I've decided to continue with this story, it has some interesting possibilities that I want to explore, starting with this chapter.

A new beginning.

Lightening crackled to life and he watched from his seat atop the wagon, while been pelted by the driving rain, as it streaked across the sky. Watched as it branched its way haphazardly down to the ground a few miles away, leaving its aftermath as a haze across his vision. As the blue light cast by the lightening slowly died, leaving the now muddy and saturated road in dim mid afternoon gloomy light once more, the thunder boomed to life around him, seemingly coming from nowhere, then instantly everywhere at once. The shutters in the wagon below rattled, the ground rumbled making the wagon driver start from his position next to him as he handled the reigns of the lead animals. To their credit they hardly seemed to notice, unsurprising as the storm had been above them for almost two hours.

Sending Lomas a glare, which the man dutifully ignored, he watched as he once again pulled the hood of his cloak up only to have the wind whip it off again. Briefly feeling sorrow for the mans predicament of having to keep at least one hand on the reins at all times, Jak Hamora grimly tightening his own cloak against his body and pulling the hood firmly into place. Satisfied that he had a firm hold he quickly turned around to once again check that all was fine with the other five wagons. After all in this sort of weather axels could easily be broken in the mud, and seeing all was fine, sent a silent prayer of thanks to the creator.

As the lightening flared across the sky again he barely refrained from chuckling to himself. Thanking the creator after been caught out in this weather? It was almost insanity, but after the many years he had spent traveling this route he had seen worse, at least there was no hail, it was not winter and none of his wagons needed any repairs. Removing some of his wet, long, grey streaked hair as it feel in front of his eyes, he surveyed his surroundings as best he could and once again came to the conclusion that a few more hours would see them in Caemlyn. At least this night would see him at the Silver Swan, a hot meal in his belly, some wine to go with it and a warm, dry, bed to retire to for the night. Yes, he quickly decided, things could be much worse.

Jak Hamora was not a man given to dreams of grandeur and an easy life, he knew that everything he had was a direct result of a life's hard work, months at a time away from his family in Aringil as he made the round trip from Aringil, through Caemlyn, Whitebridge, then down to Lugard and finally on to Illian then back again. Selling cloth and clothes made of silk purchased from a fellow merchant that supplied him from Cairhien in all the markets on the way to Illian. Then filling his wagons with Illian's finest wine and brandy before supplying twenty two different Inns on the way back with the Silver Swan in Caemlyn been the last.

He made the round trip four times a year, making an honest profit along the way, more than enough to support his wife and two teenage girls. Whatever was left went back into his wagons, expanding his operations to the point that many might call him a wealthy man and enough to make some people envious. Yet he knew that those where the same people who where unwilling to make the sacrifices he had made in his personal life to get to where he was, they wanted the wealth for next to no work. Those same sorts of people where the cause for the need he had to hire guards, those that had turned into brigands, as had plagued every nation after the upheaval caused by the coming of Rand al'Thor, the Seanchan and the Trolloc armies that had invaded the borderlands.

The chaos from that period was only now dieing down, nations once again filling the ranks of their armies after the great loss of life that had occurred in the lead up to and at the Last Battle, then later when the Trollocs had come south. Andor was one of the first nations to begin regular patrols within its own boarders and as a result was one of the safest. The queen's guard, thanks to Queen Elayne, had begun making regular patrols four years ago and had managed to scare of most of the brigands but unfortunately they had only left Andor and gone to plague other nations, which where only now beginning to get the problem under control.

Shivering against the wind that had started to pick up now that the worst of the storm had passed overheard, he glanced quickly behind him to either side, to get a good look at his guards. There were twenty in total, they ate into his profits but were so far worth every copper, as over the years his wagons had been attacked eleven times and not once had he lost any wares. While some might say twenty may be a bit excessive, their numbers discouraged attack in and of themselves. They rode alongside the wagons; ten on each side, saturated to the bone whilst glumly staring ahead or into the trees on either side of the road. Every now and then one would longingly glance ahead in hopes of seeing Caemlyn come into view. All except one that it is. Releasing a sigh and turning to face the road once more, Jak Hamora felt guilt worm its way through his heart once more.

Taking another quick glance at the man that rode at the front of the guards to his left, he was once again left feeling uneasy as he took in Dalin Zahear. While everyone else seemed determined to remain as dry as possible in the driving rain, Zahear didn't seem to care. His cloak billowed behind him, taken by the wind; he didn't even make an effort to keep it closed, his hands idle on the pommel before him, loosely gripping the reins of his mount. But oddly it wasn't that that was the disturbing part, he was saturated from head to foot, his hair plastered to his scalp and from the look on his face he could have sworn that he didn't even _notice_ it was raining. It was as if his mind was in another world, another place, yet through it all there was a small contented smile playing on his lips, the happiest he had ever seen the man. Lightening bloomed behind them and the thunder rumbled in. Zahear's expression didn't change a whisker, he didn't even blink.

Sighing and looking away quickly before Zahear noticed him, he once again joined the others in hoping to catch a glimpse of Caemlyn in the distance. For all the world that it sometimes looked as if Zahear wasn't paying attention he was almost never caught unawares, and when he caught you looking he would look right back, study you in return. In the few times that Zahear had caught him he had noticed that the look in his eyes changed from one uncaring, almost depressed, to something challenging, unsettling, and instantly along with a slight shift in his posture he all of a sudden would seem …… _dangerous_, the look of man absolutely confident that he could do extreme harm if he saw something he didn't like. It had sent shivers down his spine all three times he had seen it, yet what could be that dangerous about him he couldn't begin to imagine, the man was only a slightly above average swordsman, in Jak's opinion he had been lucky to escape with his life both times his wagons had been attacked since he had picked him up in Illian.

As the wagons turned around a bend in the road and topped a rise Caemlyn finally came into view, relief flooded him until Jak felt the guilt grow once more. Once they reached the gates he would need to do something he had been putting of since Whitebridge. He had to tell Zahear that his services where no longer required. It wasn't that he disliked the man; he seemed likable enough when he wanted company, which admittedly wasn't much of the time, Zahear's problem was that at every opportunity he would get himself well and truly drunk, and then spend most of the next morning trying to recuperate. While this was unacceptable in itself, some of the other man had started taking up the same habits, if not to the same extent, and that was intolerable.

Men with to big of a headache to see straight could guard nothing and he needed to make an example. Since Zahear was were the whole problem started in the first place he had decided he would be the one to lose his job. He had tired to reason with him at Whitebridge and it had seemed to work for a while before he started again. Jak grimaced at the thought, the only reason he had given him that chance to begin with was the fact that the man was a Veteran of the Last Battle, the light knew it was the reason that he had delayed the inevitable for as long as he had. Zahear had explained that the only reason he drunk was because of the memories he had from that day.

As the Whitebridge gate grew closer, the guilt flared again at the thought of firing a veteran, something he was loath to do, something he had always hoped he wouldn't have to do, but unfortunately it was now something that had to be done. As he remembered that Zahear was the first man that he had ever given such a chance to the guilt lessened, somewhat, but didn't leave entirely. Praying that he would understand, Jak Hamora spent the rest of the now short journey huddled on his seat peering through driving rain trying not to think of Zahear but rather the warm, dry, bed that awaited him at the Silver Swan.

* * *

Later that night as the rain continued to fall, making a dull roar on the tiled roof that was only partially drowned out by the flute been played on the other side of the room, Dalin found himself in the common room of The Crown and Lion. Sitting alone with his brandy, in the corner of the room that the light didn't seem to reach so well, he was trying, and failing miserably to forget that yet again he had been fired from yet another paying job. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen it coming, but he was still regretting the path his life had taken that had led him here, cold, wet, alone and well on his way to been drunk.

Jak had put up with him for longer than he imagined before his patience had worn to thin, regarding him as a bad influence on his man and poorly disciplined. What he had not been expecting was the last of the man's reasons, that almost every afternoon for a couple of hours he would seem to notice next to nothing around him. He had been mutely standing by his horse as the man nervously listed the reasons behind his decision. Having heard it all before he was barely paying attention and was just waiting for the man to finish and give him his final pay so he could go find a Inn in which to stay when he had reprimanded him for what he called those 'absent' spells.

The brandy burned as it slid down his throat as he recalled his surprise, Jak was the first of the men that he had worked for that had noticed that he did that. How was he meant to tell the man that at those times he was more alert than it was possible for anyone else in the wagon train to be, more alive even? Those two hours, every afternoon that he was on the open road, been the only two a day that he allowed _saidin_ to burn along his bones, fire and ice raging through his soul, bringing life to an otherwise dead world. Those were the hours he lived for; those hours of fighting the now familiar battle with _saidin_, where the world came to life, where sounds became crisper, colors became sharper.

He used that time to practice his control of _saidin_, weave after weave, woven with as sharp a command as he could manage. At times the deadly weaves came within an inch of blooming into fruition, as two strands of the power just needed to touch for the weave to spring to life. He practiced the Rolling Fire, the Frozen Touch, and the Concussion of Light among many others. All weaves inverted, all weaves stopped just before they took on a life of their own. He practiced making the weaves with the least amount of power possible, so as to be able to direct saidin efficiently on the battle field.

At other times he practiced shields, practiced putting them up as quickly as possible before lowering them and trying to do better. And yet on other days he worked on the weaves that he could safely do without been seen, such as using earth, fire and air to 'look' into the earth to locate minerals and ores present around him at any given location. He had heard that among the Aes Sedai that this was a rare talent, called delving, as it required strength in earth, but as earth was primarily a male power he was sure it was not that uncommon, just uncommon for the females. After all most of the Aes Sedai could affect the weather, but due to his lack of strength in water he could just barely sense moisture let alone manipulate it.

With water been the only one of the five powers he struggled in he had begun to look for other ways to use _saidin_, to accomplish new tasks, like this day when Jak had apparently caught 'lost in his own mind', as he had put it, he had been searching for a weave that would allow him to speed the growth in the plants around him, something he hoped one day could be used safely on crops and such, but so far he had only limited success.

The Aes Sedai thought such research was dangerous, always having the risk of been burnt out or stilled, but he had survived thus far and at the same time developed some interesting weaves. The one he was most proud of been The Concussion of Light, it was something he had developed just last year after noticing that the plants growth was caused by the sunlight. Then after a little bit of research into the sunlight he noticed that a sort of …. _energy_ existed within the light, and by a complex weave of earth, fire, air and spirit, shaped like two funnels facing in opposite directions, he could manipulate that energy to a single point.

Quietly chuckling to himself, he took another swallow of the brandy as he remembered the first time he had tired that weave and almost killed himself, the first and only time he agreed that research might be dangerous. He had been alone in a clearing in the Dhallin forest, just the day before having thought of the weave. Excitedly he had come early in the morning wanting to see what this energy looked like, then proceeded to set up the weave and cautiously start. At first using small amounts of the power he could feel it working but could not see it, so he opened himself fully up to _saidin_ soaked up as much as he could and strengthened the weave.

Immediately he could see the results, the amount energy been drawn intensified exponentially, and a growing ball of solid white light appeared in the middle of the weave. At first he was fascinated, but fascination turned to alarm as the ball continued to grow and he was almost immediately struggling to hold it. Making a snap decision he released the weave and through up the strongest shield he could. Almost immediately he could feel a concussion of the air press against his shield, mere moments before the white ball of rippling energy exploded.

Eyeing the dice game in the corner he recalled how that small clearing, which at the beginning of the day had been only a few meters across was now an alarmingly large clearing. The trees closest to him had been incinerated and ones up two hundred paces away where thrown like twigs and burning. The earth, except for the small patch he was standing on, was scorched black and smoldering. His shield had only just held and had he been a second slower he would have been killed by his own weave. It was with small amounts of that energy that he was sure he could make plants grow faster; he just had to figure out how.

Trying to forget his failings once more he pulled himself out of his thoughts and took notice of his surroundings. Although it was getting late the common room was still mostly full. The type of patrons this place attracted where just the sort he liked, rough, no nonsense and all in all most where just looking to forget about their troubles. It was not the sort of place he would stay mind you, there would always be far too much commotion going in this part of lower Caemlyn and if you weren't careful, despite any effort the innkeeper made in the way of security, there was always a chance your belongings might disappear from your rooms. Some of his belongings where just too valuable to take that chance.

After Jak had given him his pay for the last month and a half, a little bit more than he had been expecting, he had taken his mount, which he had jokingly named Wind due to the fact he was quite possibly the slowest horse he had ever seen, and headed to the New City. Once beyond the walls that portioned of the inner most part of Caemlyn he had gone directly to the Hoop and Arrow, the Inn he frequented when he stayed in Caemlyn. The appeal of the Hoop and Arrow was not in the fact that it was one of the cheapest; in fact it was slightly on the expansive side, it was entirely in the fact that the Innkeeper, Millis Fendry, was one of the best cooks outside of a palace this side of the Spine of the World.

Unfortunately she catered for mostly the merchants that made their way to Caemlyn, the type of people that where loud, obnoxious and often couldn't mind their own business. After stabling Wind for the night, he had paid for and moved his belongings to a room that overlooked the street from the second floor, giving him a view of the palace. Once settled he had made his way to the common room, took some of her roast chicken that he had been looking forward to for weeks, then headed to the Crown and Lion where he could get lost in obscurity and be forgotten the moment he walked out into the rain.

Silently, once he had caught the eye of the pretty severing maid Gina, he signaled for another brandy. And after handing over a few coppers and receiving a pretty smile along with a wink of all things, he settled back once more to continue listening to the rumor mill, trying to decide where he would go next. The snippets of conversations that drifted to his ears, while he knew they couldn't be trusted, were still the best source of information he could find.

The news was much the same as he had heard elsewhere, Queen Elayne and her children where fine, along with the prince escort. Some of the more loyal man seemed quite happy that the Daughter Heir seemed to be tacking after her mother. Lord General Cauthon was still campaigning to retake the Seanchan Empire for his wife, the man had been there only three years and it seemed he had taken control of a third of the continent, with one rumor suggesting that just a month past he had finally retaken the capital, Seander.

Rumors of Aes Sedai floated about like they always do, highlighting one apparent plot or another and of course some fools would sometimes hesitantly add that the Asha'man where said to be opposing the Aes Sedai on one or more of those plots, though these days none ever mentioned that they had actually been seen somewhere. The rebuilding in the borderlands was said to be slow going, people still afraid to return to their home countries, though they where been encouraged by King Perrin Goldeneyes of Saldaea and the Malkierian Queen.

Upon hearing that he cringed and tried to sink into the shadows even more. At the time of the Second Trolloc wars he had been angry and content let the Aes Sedai die like they had let his brothers die at Shayol Ghul. Unfortunately though, it was not only the Aes Sedai that had died in those wars, close to four hundred thousand man had perished defending the soft underbelly of the Westlands from the Trollocs, four hundred thousand died while he acted like an angry child, letting the Aes Sedai die so they could feel his pain. The Aes Sedai may have betrayed the Asha'man at Shayol Ghul but he had come to realize he had betrayed the man in those armies by not aiding them in the Second Trolloc wars.

The shame that sprang to life was nothing new, blood and ashes it was the reason the brandy was in his hand in the first place. He remembered his first day at the Black Tower, after he had been told he had the spark, the first thing he was taught was the meaning of the word Asha'man. "It stands for guardian, guardians or defender," he was told by one of the dedicated; "An Asha'man was a man who defended truth and justice and right for everyone. A guardian who would not yield even when hope was gone."

Those words he had memorized now haunted him. How could he call himself an Asha'man when he had left those men to die? A defender of a just cause? His presence would have shortened the war considerably, fore the Aes Sedai would have been able to link with him, making bigger, far stronger circles and would have been able to counter the flows of _saidin _ that where otherwise invisible to them. How many people had he betrayed? How many had died needlessly? He knew it was his pride that kept him away, they same pride that kept him away from the White Tower now, the same pride that let those men die while learning to channel _saidin_.

Quickly deciding that he had had enough and would not be finding his destination tonight, he finished his brandy, rose on decidedly unsteady legs, grabbed his cloak, gave some extra coppers to Gina and headed for the door, out into the now steady rain. Turning left towards the new city, he struggled to put his cloak on over his sword, with the wind constantly whipping it this way and that. On legs that didn't seem to want to walk straight, and considering the fact the world was rocking didn't seem to help matters either, he began the long struggle back to his bed at the Hoop and Arrow.

He had not been walking for five minutes when he turned a corner and saw a site that made his blood run cold. Ahead of him a small slender figure of a woman wrapped up in a expensive looking cloak was walking at a measured pace towards him, what disturbed him though was that this was Lower Caemlyn, the rough part of the city and she was been flowed much to closely by what could only be thieves. The glint of light bouncing of the steel of one of their daggers caught his eye, confirming his suspicions. What was such a woman doing out, this late at night, in this part of Caemlyn? He didn't have time to wonder though, after seeing him the thieves had begun rushing towards their intended target.

Those words came to his mind unbidden, "It stands for guardian, guardians or defender," and before he knew what was happening he was moving forward, yelling a warning to the woman who started in surprise and clutched at _saidin_, which promptly faded like mist before the sun in his drunken mind. Still desperately trying to cling to _saidin_, he managed to ungraciously pull his sword free as he moved past the woman who for some reason, had ignored his shouts to run and was slowly turning to face her attackers.

Unfortunately the world seemed to lurch just as he swung his sword towards the first of the thieves, making his sword arch wildly to his left, missing the man by a good half foot, perhaps he had slipped in the rain? The result however was a dagger entering his shoulder blade as the wild swing allowed the man to close the distance safely. Screaming in pain, he brought his sword back around, cutting off the thief's hand which he quickly followed up by impaling the man through the chest. Breathing heavy in his own ears he began to search out the other thief with his eyes, only to be interrupted by what felt like twin lightening bolts in his chest. While hearing the sound of footsteps fading into the distance, his attacker running away, his eyes drifted down to his chest. The sight that greeted him, twin dagger handles sticking out of his chest, made his stomach twist. The one on the right he was sure had punctured his lung; the one on the left was entirely to close to his heart.

Sinking to his knees, while the taste of blood entered his mouth, he put his left hand out to support him as he rolled over onto his back. As more blood entered his mouth and the rain continued to fall as he stared up into the cloudless sky, he couldn't help wondering incredulously, so this is how I die? After surviving the Last Battle and every other battle lending up to it except the Well's, after facing of against Dreadlords and forsaken, this is how I die, stabbed to death in a rainy night in Caemlyn? 'This is what I get for been drunk' he thought sardonically.

The sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears, and he turned his head to stare at the approaching figure of the woman whose life he hoped he had at least saved. As she rushed forward the hood of her cloak was pulled back by the wind, revealing a pretty face of with big brown eyes framed by long brown hair. Too late he notice the Great Serpent ring on her left hand. Blood and ashes, how I hate been drunk!

* * *

As she rushed forward towards the man that was clearly dieing on the ground, Aes Sedai Bodewhin Cauthon was still trying to comprehend what had just happened. One moment she had been walking back to her Inn the Crown of Roses quietly contemplating whether what she had learned this night should leave her feeling relieved or saddened, the next a man was rushing towards her, yelling at her to run. Then before she had time to think straight one of the man that had apparently been about to kill her was dead, the other sprinting away and the man that had stopped them was laying on the floor, with multiple stab wounds in his chest and shoulder. Knowing the choice had been to tend to the man or go after the petty thief, she chose the inevitable.

Finally reaching the man she bent down and opened herself to _saidar,_ she wove Air, Water and spirit into his body, the weave of delving. Immediately she discovered that his wounds where indeed fatal, he was drunk and he had hit his head on the ground when he fell, causing a slight concussion. Exasperated once again that her skill in healing was no where near she wished it to be, she opened herself up to _saidar_ completely and after sending a silent prayer to the Creator, she wove all five powers shakily into his body and begun the healing process as best she could.

Once finished, Bodewhin sat back on her heals, as much as the dress would allow anyway, panting heavily. A small satisfied grin spread across her features. The extent of his injuries had pushed the boundaries of her healing ability but she had succeeded, he was now breathing easily, though still unconscious.

Silently thanking the creator that she hadn't killed him in the healing process, she rewove delving once again just to be sure he would be fine. The instant the weave touched his body her smile vanished, replaced immediately with a heavy frown. He was still dieing, the healing had taken to much energy out of his body and that combined with the extreme blood loss, was causing his body to slowly shutdown. His body didn't have the energy required to recuperate from the healing.

Sighing, she knew there was only one way to save his life now and considering he was dieing because he had probably saved hers, she knew she had to do it, even if she didn't want to. "Somehow I get the feeling that neither of us are going to enjoy this, don't think this is the ideal situation for me, I didn't spend near three years looking only to have you drop in my lap." Her voice was soft, yet firm. But she knew she was just delaying the inevitable.

Hoping by some miracle he would turn out to be the man she had been looking for and that all would work out well, Bodewhin Cauthon wove the weave she had been longing to weave for the last three years, ever since she had been taught it after been raised to Aes Sedai. As gently as she could she wove the web of spirit around him as she had been taught, saw as it settled around him, then settled into him. Immediately a ball of emotions and an awareness of the man before her sprang to life in her head, the man that was now her warder. Through the bond she could feel him strengthen and was now certain he would survive. Satisfied her thoughts drifted to getting them both safely back to the Crown of Roses so he could recuperate, and she could get dry.

A/n: Thanks for reading, I hoped you like it. Please review; I really want to know what you guys think.


	3. A little black bag

Disclaimer: Still own nothing, except I think I'll claim Dalin Zahear and this version of Bodewhin.

A/n: Thanks to Bakaneko, Ashandarei and Psycholeopard for reviewing and letting me know at least some people are enjoying this story.

A little black bag.

The storm that had plagued the city had passed by mid morning, leaving streaming sunlight and clear blue skies in its wake. Caemlyn basked in the afternoon sunlight, its streets awash with rejuvenated energy as people enjoyed been outside after been forced to seek shelter for the last two days. The clean, crisp air that blew in from the open wind did nothing to lessen the trepidation that she felt however, if anything it seemed to make it worse. How could such a normal and expected event still exist in the world? Surely it belonged in the one she was in yesterday, not the one she lived today. A surreal experience, after her world felt like it had been turned on its head.

Bodewhin Cauthon sat in her room at the Crown of Roses slowly drinking her chilled wine, desperately trying to study her room or the street below, anything other than the two things she had been drawn to all day. Be it the people below, the ornamental hearth framed by the rich dark wood walls of her room, the gilded chairs and table in her waiting room or the small book she carried with her on her trips away from Tar Valon, nothing held her attention for long. Her eyes where inevitably drawn through the portal of her bedroom to one of two things.

The first thing that her eyes always fell on where the pristine white sheets of the double bed, then ever so slowly, her eyes would drift up to the torso of the man that looked as if he was just sleeping calmly. The sunlight that filtered through the open shutters fell across the bed and that, coupled with the early summer heat, had caused him to partially remove the sheets as he tossed and turned, revealing his upper torso and the waistline of his black pants. Three tender patches of skin marked his body, one on his shoulder blade, the other two on his chest, the only evidence that anything had been wrong with him.

Her eyes constantly studied everything that she could see, trying to memorize it, from the sparse, unkempt, light brown stubble that covered his face in patches, as if he had tried to grow a beard and could not. To the brown hair that seemed to be just getting to a length that would suit him, to the strong jaw line, the well defined muscles of his torso, even the way he snored lightly now that he had gotten past the worst of his fatigue after been healed.

_Dalin Zahear_, the name burned through her mind, over and over again. The name had been provided this morning by the innkeeper of the Hoop and Arrow, Millis Fendry, after she had come and identified him as one of her patrons. According to her it was either his name or the name he used every time he came to the Hoop and Arrow. Either way, until he woke up, she had no better. The name of the man that, had things been different, may have been her warder by choice. The man that now, due to an order from the Amyrlin seat and the other thing in the room that she found herself studying, would remain bound to her where either of them liked it or not, wanted it or not.

Though she tried to fight it, almost tried to will herself to deny that it wasn't true, that it didn't actually exist, her eyes moved of their own accord to what was sitting innocently on the nightstand. There, next to the unlit lamp, sat a little black bag made of silk, tied of with a small black cord. Though harmless in and of itself, the contents changed everything. Two small metal pins, one a silver sword, the other a gold and emerald dragon. It was when she had seen those for the first time that her concept of normal had been changed forever.

Those two pins, which at one time the sight of which was feared in every nation south of the Blight, coupled with the sensation of shivering that she felt through the bond every time she channeled _saidar_ next to him, named Dalin Zahear an Asha'man. It could be, however improbable, that he was a man that could channel that had found the pins, after all there where plenty of dead Asha'man at Shayol Ghul, but she didn't believe in coincidences. He could channel, he had the pins and the look in his eyes just before he passed out, one of anger not fear convinced her. The man snoring rhythmically on the bed before her was an Asha'man.

At the time of the last battle, the time that the Asha'man had been prominent, she was a mere student at Tar Valon, one of the Accepted. The only time she had ever seen one was when Merise brought her warder into the camp outside Tar Valon, Jahar if she recalled correctly. At the time she had been afraid, no one knew _saidin_ had been cleansed at the time, and at the same time intrigued.

Dalin Zahear, a type of man that many within the White Tower believed no longer existed and many thought the world was better place because of it, a safer place. A weapon, she had heard them described, a living breathing weapon, their control of the one power attuned to destruction and little else. The Greens were still envious of the reputation they had built up within a few short years, still trying to learn how to duplicate the weaves they had seemingly effortlessly discovered, The Blossoms of Fire, Deathgates and Arrows of Fire as she had heard them called later on by the Greens.

An extremely dangerous man that she had bonded against his will, one that had survived Shayol Ghul were the weak would have been weeded out, a man that obviously doesn't like Aes Sedai. She had resisted the urge to send for more sisters or to wrap him so tightly in wards that if he even thought about channeling she'd know for the same reason; she needed his trust. Smothering him with sisters or holding a shield and wards on him would in no way help that. If things went poorly here she could pay for it for a very long time. Her anxiety levels rising she took a deep calming breath and opened herself up _saidar_ to feel its calming presence. Immediately she regretted it, as a soft groan greet her action. 'Oh light, let this go well, at least let him not hate me'.

Through the bond she could feel him become more alert with each passing moment; emotions became sharper, clearer and more frequent. As he worked his way towards consciousness, she released _saidar_; after all there was no need to alarm him, got up from her chair moved to the bed, making it there just in time to see him groggily move his hands up to rub his now slowly opening eyes. Which she noted where green, finally completing the last piece of information that she had been itching to know. It was only a matter of time now.

* * *

There was less pain in his head then there should have been, he noted immediately, still that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but there was something else that he couldn't quite place, it was only the ominous feeling that was growing in the pit of his stomach that told him it would be a far better idea to wake up rather than go back to sleep. Sighing deeply he vaguely noticed movement in the room as he brought his hands up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

As his eyes began to focus a sense of disorientation flared to life and the feeling in his stomach grew steadily worse. This was not his bed; looking around at the dark wood walls he quickly realized it wasn't his room either. Now alarmed he propped himself up on his elbows and immediately his eyes found those of a slender woman sitting on the edge of his bed, 'well at the very least she should not be here' he though dryly. Still as she sat there seemingly frozen, as if waiting for something, though for the life of him he had no idea what, he could vaguely recall having seen those large brown eyes somewhere before. Though her face didn't give away much he noted she was nervous for some reason, as if she had butterflies in her stomach, and she was hot and hungry too. 'Well at least I'm not the only……wait. WHAT!' the though died as realization struck. He sat bolt upright before the white lights flared across his vision, pain bloomed to life in his head.

In a matter of seconds he felt a small yet firm hand pressing him back down, "lay back down, you have been sleeping for a long time and moved to fast" she said in a firm, commanding voice. Struggling against her hand while clutching his head he ignored her. _She_, the one whom he could now clearly feel nestled in the back of his head, feel her alarm at him sitting up suddenly just now beginning to die down, feel her unease at addressing him. 'Oh dear Creator, I've been bonded, what in the lights name happened last night?' Sighing in exasperation she gave up trying to push him and as he vision cleared, he could see her sitting there with a scowl on her face, hands clasped together in her lap. "Fine be stubborn then" she muttered, disapproval in her tone. He barely heard her though his eyes focused on her lap, on the Great Serpent ring on her left hand and the memories came unbidden, rage almost consumed him, some directed at himself, most towards her. He was bonded to an Aes Sedai, a light forsaken _Aes Sedai_, why had she done it? 'There had to be a way out of this, there just had to be because, I don't think I can stand be so close to one of _them._'

He noted her eyes had followed his to her hand and through the bonded he called feel her nervousness vanish to be replaced a small icicle of fear. What was she scared of? But as her eyes rose to meet his again that was not the question he asked. "Where am I and how did I get here?" his voice was surprisingly hoarse. How long _had_ he been asleep?

As small smile lit up her face for a brief moment before it disappeared, genuine amusement flickering in the bond before quickly dieing, seemingly snuffed out by her fear. "You are in my rooms at an inn in the new city called the Crown of Roses", she paused letting him take in the information. 'Well at least I'm still in Caemlyn' he noted dryly, before she continued "and as to how you came to be here, well you attacked some man that were apparently about to attack me and almost died for it. After I healed you I had you brought back here so I could keep an eye on you while you recovered." She paused again as if to make sure he understood the implications of that she started again in a friendlier tone. "Now that I have answer two of your questions you can answer two of mine, what is your name and how old are you?"

Struggling to keep his anger in check he answered her without thinking, his mind desperately trying to come up with a way out of this. "My name is Dalin Zahear and I'm twenty nine" he stated, and then heard what had just come out of his mouth, he could have kicked himself. Again amusement drifted through the bond but disappeared quickly when he fixed her with a glare. 'She thought this was funny?' incensed he struggled to keep his tone non-threatening, reminding himself that he needed to act like he knew nothing and managed to asked the question that was appropriate in this situation, "what have you done to me?"

That icicle of fear grew at an alarming rate, it was this she had feared, she managed to keep it from showing on her face though, an impressive feat, considering what he felt through the bond. Her only movement was to arch an eyebrow and in a somewhat uneasy tone she answered "oh, I think you know." Then at his blank expression she gave a pointed look towards his left, which his eyes instinctively followed.

The ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach gored at him as he turned his head, like a wild beast struggling to get free and promptly vanished, unable to exist along side his all consuming rage, as his eyes fell on the little black bag sitting on the bed side table.

Throwing back the sheet, he sprang out of bed, forcing her to follow suit as she back away slowly, her eyes wide. 'How dare she!' he spat venomously to himself while he clutched at _saidin, _letting it burn through him, fire and ice, coursing along his bones, somewhere in the distance outside the void, he felt a small surprise at finding no shield. Pulling as much of _saidin_ into him as he could, he snatched up the bag before rounding on her and wildly lashing out with the one power, slamming a shield in place and a weave of air flung her into the wall, from which she rebounded, before crumpling to the floor panting for breath.

"What made you think that I would accept this?" he all but screamed, "what right did you have to do this to me, isn't bonding a man against his will against Tower law?" she was slowly rising to her feet, he'd hurt her he abruptly realized, one of her ribs may even be broken, light he hadn't meant to throw her that hard, but he didn't let that stop him. "What happened, you healed me, found where I had been staying, _searched_ my room, my _personal _belonging's, found this," he waved his left hand, "and decided that you would like a Asha'man for a warder, then proceeded to bond me while I was unconscious?" for some reason her fear had vanished, the glare he was receiving should have burnt him on the spot. He continued, "What did you think would happen, that I would wake up and just accept this, that I would not mind that if you die so do I, that I would just change my life and follow you?"

She didn't say anything at first, just stood there and glared at him, her large brown eye's smoldering, 'light she's pretty when she's angry' now where had that thought come from? Ever so slowly she began to advance towards him, a raging fury on the inside, cool, calm and composed to the outside world. Step by step she came closer until she had to bend her neck to look up at him, the sound of her breathing the only thing he could hear, the throbbing in her ribs about the only thing he could feel and she promptly drew back her right hand and slapped him across the face, a resounding smack heard throughout the room.

Clutching at his now burning face he slowly turned his head back towards her matching her glare with one of his own but before he could say anything she began to speak, anger leaking from every word, "For your information the bond was the only thing that kept you alive, after I healed you, you where still dieing from the blood loss and the energy the healing had taken out of you, I'm of the Blue Ajah, healing is not one of my talents, without the bond you would have died," she punctuated each word, driving each one home like a nail in his coffin. "As for that," she gestured to his left hand, "it was not my doing; need I remind you that you killed a man on the streets of Caemlyn? That the city guards had to conduct an investigation, after all, I never actually saw that man attacking me did I, and I could not lie. They had to be sure you where the one attacked not the other way around. Once they found that _this morning_, after I had bonded you I might add, they decided it was no longer their investigation and brought your belongings here to me. You should be grateful that I managed to convince the guard captain that they were a fake."

Unfortunately that actually made sense, every unnatural death in Caemlyn was investigate by the Queens guards in order to appease the population, she was not finished though, "I save your life, I manage to protect your secret, I stay longer in Caemlyn then I should have, I was due back in Tar Valon this morning which means that I will probably be reprimanded," a small amount of worry bloomed to life in the bond before been quickly forgotten, validating the truth of that statement, "and after I find out that you are probably an Asha'man I don't have you taken to Tar Valon where you would have woken up surrounded by sister's, I don't shield or still you so I couldn't use it as leverage and this is the thanks I get!" she hissed while gesturing vaguely in the direction of the wall he had thrown her into and her head, if it where possible those eyes seemed bigger and angrier than before.

His own anger on the other hand had all but left him, only the smoldering embers remained. She could not lie, unless she was Black of course, but he didn't think there were too many of them these days, blood and ashes a black would have left him to die in the first place. Sighing, he tentatively asked the question that he feared most, "will you release me from this bond?"

He noticed her anger slowly simmering, as if refusing to go away and as she answered she turned her head away, breaking eye contact for the first time, resignation filled the bond as she answered, "No," and seeing him open his mouth she forestalled him, "its not my choice," she began, answering his unasked question, taking a deep breath she continued to explain, "there are two reasons, the first been that the Amyrlin Seat has standing orders, that no Aes Sedai can release a man from a bond without her personal permission, with the only exception being if we are dieing and want to spare our warder the pain of our death, spare him the madness. This oath was designed to stop some Aes Sedai bonding a man, forcing him to do what she will, than release him once she's done with him." From the look on her face there was more to it than that but he didn't press her.

"And the second?" he asked, while dreading the answer.

Again the worry bloomed along the bond, worry for him? She took a minute before answering, as if deciding whether or not to tell him, her hands clutching at her skirt though she didn't seem to notice. Tossing her head, flicking her long brown hair back over her shoulders, she once again meet his eyes with her own. "There is a standing order issued from the Hall that any word of the Asha'man, that seemed like it could be true, had to be passed to them or at the very least the Amyrlin. No matter what happens I have to report you, and when the Amyrlin learns you're my warder, she will never agree to let me release you as she has to do what is best for the Tower and letting you go would not be." The resignation that he felt through the bond from her convinced him far more than her words, she truly would have no say.

With _saidin_ filling him, wrapped in the void as he was, he couldn't stop the anger flowing throughout his body once more, couldn't stop the question from escaping his mouth, and couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, "so I'm stuck with the bond in my head then, stuck with you?"

What he had not been expecting was her response, the rage flared anew coupled with indignation, "You are stuck with me? No, I'm stuck with you, a man I don't want to be my warder, a man I had only bonded to save his life because he _thought_ he had been saving mine, a man who I heal and offers not one word of thanks; instead I get thrown into a wall and he doesn't even regret it. I'm a Blue, we only bond one warder at a time, and judging by the fact I can't brake through your shield you're stronger in the power than I am, which means you will live _longer_ than me, you will be the _only_ warder I will ever have, an _Asha'man_. I will never actually choose a man to be my warder; I will have one forced on me because I happened to run into _you._"

Though she paused for a moment she wasn't finished just collecting her thoughts, growing angrier every passing moment. "You on the other hand should consider yourself lucky, you get into a street brawl when you're too drunk to channel, without me you would be dead and I happen to be of the Blue. The Blue feels we owe the Asha'man for the Last Battle. A Red would have stilled you and only would have had you healed your connection to _saidin_ once she was certain she was in control of you, the Browns think your relics from a previous age, the Greens think you stole their glory, a Grey would already be trying to force you to reveal the location of the other Asha'man in the hopes of forming an alliance and I have no idea what a Yellow or White would do! Light, the Reds have claimed bonding and 'guiding' men that can channel as there new purpose, what are they going to do to me once they find out about you?"

Surprisingly he found he was agreeing with her, from what she said he had indeed been lucky. 'Light, a Red would have done what? Wait the Reds had claimed WHAT as their new purpose?' Disgusted he drew his mind away from that and focused on what else she said. 'The Brown thought they where relics? The Green thought they stole their glory? Light if they had shown up they could have had it, for all he cared, and there was no need to tell her that he had no idea were the other Asha'man where'. Still old grievances wouldn't let him be subdued; the anger returned to his voice, "You think you owe us for the last battle? That is all, you just owe us, do you have any idea how-."

"Stop," she cut him off sharply, holding up a hand at the same time, her anger was only increasing along with something else…. disappointment? 'What have I done now?' "I need to sit down and, unfortunately, we are going to have plenty of time to discuss this later." Her mouth twisted in distaste as she said that, "In the mean time just keep in mind that I was only an Accepted at the time of the last battle, I have only been an Aes Sedai for three years," She turned and started moving tenderly towards the door, "and even though you don't seem to care my name is Bodewhin." With that she slammed the door to the bedroom shut; the loud bang seemed to echo in the room after she had left.

For the first time the rage, the anger that he had been feeling since he had woken up disappeared completely, and was replaced with guilt and shame as he recalled her words. She had done nothing wrong, nothing at all and he had acted like a fool, reacted violently when it was the last thing she deserved. He could feel her pain even now; he had hurt her both physically and emotionally. She probably had ideas what her warder would be like, an ideal version of what she wanted and she had ended up with him.

He now recalled that when he had woken up she had been trying to be nice and a small hope had been flicking along the bond that had promptly died when she had crashed into the wall. She had known they would be stuck together, fore the White Tower would only follow if chose to flee, and she had been hoping he would accept her, hoping he could be the man she wanted. The guilt he felt for that surprised him, but it was something that he could not deny, under the circumstance she had done everything she could to make it easy on him, she had been open and honest, hadn't tried to hide the fact that she knew what he was. If he was going to be stuck with her he could at least be civil to her, nice even, after all it was not her fault, if it was anyone's it was his. Now he had to deal with the consequences of his own actions.

'To be a warder', the very idea filled him with disgust, the notion was unbearable to think about, yet it was what he had brought on himself, with his own stupidity and his own weakness. As he stared at the closed door, felt her examine her side, pushing and prodding to see what was broken and what wasn't, he vowed silently to never lash out at her again.

He could not, would not, swear any oath to obey her, but he would repay his debts. She had saved his life, saved him from exposure and had suffered by his hand because of it, it would take a while. Hopefully he could find a way keep the number of Aes Sedai that found out what he was to a minimum. He would still protect her though, after all he was a 'guardian', and if any of the Reds learnt about his true nature and had a problem with Bodewhin because of it they would have to go through him, she had been truly scared when she had mentioned that. _Bodewhin_, the name felt strange to him, something was wrong with it, and then it hit him. _Bode_, he quickly decided, with a small smile, was much better.

Abruptly he realized he was still holding _saidin_, still holding her shielded and immediately let go of both. He was rewarded with a small flicker of surprise from the other end of the bond and the hurt she was feeling lessened, at least it was a start. He would have to apologize, he noted. 'Blood and ashes, I didn't even think to ask her for her name or anything else for that matter.'

A/N: please read and review, i like to know what you think.


	4. Waking

Disclaimer: All RJ's, not mine, HIS, the one they call the creator.

A/N: Yeah so I don't update often but I have found that's only because I can't write when it feels like work. This was fun and if it stays that way I'll keep writing, if not, no promises. Anyway I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I liked writing it. Oh and if there are a few mistakes, don't shoot me I don't have a beta or know anyone who likes WOT so I can't get anyone to read this….

Ever so slowly the light that had been gently flicking across his eyelids for what must have been hours brought him to consciousness. Against all his wishes and with thoughts of self preservation in mind, his eyes opened the barest fraction revealing the room that he hardly remembered renting.

Immediately, upon focusing on the stream of light that was filtering in through the open shutters and splashing across his face, all other thoughts left his groggy mind. As if unable to comprehend what he was seeing, he stared in fascination at the light. For some unknown reason, at least until he woke up enough for his mind to start working he was sure, the light seemed to contain secrets that eluded him, no matter how hard he tried to conjure up any explanation for why it would transfix him so. From the dust that seemed to be floating haphazardly, lazily, through the stream creating random flashes of light which drew the eye, to the branches of the tree that was outside the window, which sometimes moved when taken by the wind, blocking out the light at unpredictable intervals.

With great effort, both mental and physical, he tore his eyes away from the window and rolled over, his muscles groaning in protest the entire time. A quick and somewhat confusing examination of his surroundings revealed that he had been sleeping on the floor, dressed only in his black pants and wrapped in a blanket. His saddle bags were up against the wall, half the contents had spilled onto the floor, as if the bags had been thrown and had been forgotten as soon as they had left his hand. The room itself was bare, a simple bed and chamber pot where the only furnishings, with the window seemingly been the only source of light. As he propped himself up against the bed, which he must have rolled of while he was sleeping, he took in the door to his right, opposite the window.

Despite waking in an unknown room, despite remembering little of what had actually occurred for him to end up here, that was not what worried him. In truth he was pretty sure that he knew what had happened, even if he didn't remember it properly just yet, the foggy pieces of his memory suggested enough that he could make a guess, especially considering that he had found himself in this position before, though rarely. With the coarse sheets of the bedding pressed against his back and the hardwood floor beneath him he considered what was wrong. Something was ….. _missing. _

His eyes were drawn to the light once more as he considered what it could actually be. From his brief examination of the contents of his bag nothing important was missing, all his secrets were safe and behind a locked door. One of his piecemeal memories suggested that Wind was stabled not far from were he sat. Everything that had been in his possession for the last few years still was, yet he still felt incomplete. Bewildered, he ran a hand through his hair, and as his eyes fell on a black silk bag, he froze. Something unraveled in his head, a memory sprang to life within his mind and, unable to stop it, he was drawn into remembrance.

_Ever so carefully he imagined the knot of emotions in his head that was her as a ball, he imagined taking a cloth and wrapping the ball up so the no part of it could be seen, wrapped it up as tightly as he could. Just to be sure he mentally tied a knot in the cloth so nothing could escape, so nothing could be felt. Immediately the ball of emotions that was Bodewhin vanished, as if erased from existence. A tight small smile graced his lips as he turned to face a wide eyed Aes Sedai._

"_How…" she began, startled, before trying again in a somewhat calmer voice, though no less indignant, "Where did you learn that?"_

"_It's amazing what you learn when fifty one sisters are sent to destroy you, don't you think?" he replied, unable to keep that sarcasm from his voice, unable to sound less threatening._

_She was slow to reply, as if considering all the implications of what he said, all the while a hand clutched at her side.. "So you will block the bond and leave then?" _

_What she was really asking was whether he was going to run or not, whether he was going to force her to case him with the backing of the White Tower, or not. "No, I'll not run," her faced relaxed a fraction, letting him know she was relived. After all he did not want the whole tower knowing about him and that is what would happen if he ran, "But I'll not accompany you back to Tar Valon, either. I have some things to do before I can start this charade. I'll meet you in Tar Valon in three days." _

_It was a complete lie, of course, he had nothing to do but that wasn't the important part. He had to maintain some independence, some defiance and control of his own life. Letting her think she dictated where he went and when would have been the first mistake. The tight, "I see," he got in return was evidence enough that he was right._

As the memory faded back into the recesses of his mind others came to take its place. Images of daggers, a brown eyed young woman, of sitting in a bed staring at a black bag sitting casually in the open, of that same woman been thrown violently into a wall. Emotions came at a rush, one atop the other, Seething rage, boiling anger, coupled with burning shame and guilt. Shock was in there to, he was sure; it was just consumed by the others. All the memories concerning the bonding and some of the proceeding days came back to him.

His eyes still on the offending piece of evidence that had lead to Bodewhin knowing he was an Asha'man, he cautiously reached out to the bond and carefully checked everything was still in place. Satisfied that it had held up to the last few days of what could only be described as torture, he gently loosened the hold that he had on the bond, allowing him to vaguely sense where she was. He found that she was somewhere to the northeast, and if he was still in the last place he remembered he was, a small village in south Cairhien, meant she could only be in one place, Tar Valon.

Groaning he quickly tightened the hold on the bond again, completely removing the Aes Sedai from his head once more and for the moment he put her from his mind as much as he could. On protesting legs he stood and moved over to the window, wanting to stretch his aching muscles, while at the same time feeling the need to get moving. The sight that greeted his eyes out the window was reassuringly somewhat familiar; this was that village in Cairhien, Kerdal, if he recalled correctly.

Leaning against the frame of the window he let the air play across his features, through his sparse beard and hair. It was good to feel alive again after…._that_. The headaches were the first sign, he had learnt. They always began as a dull pain behind his eyes, which would linger for hours, seemingly harmless, oh so innocent, oh so easy to ignore. The first time he had, in fact, ignored them. They had found him unconscious in a field near the Black Tower, two days later.

That first time, he, and everyone else, had assumed it was just a one off thing. It didn't reoccur again until after the Last Battle. In the intervening years the episodes had now occurred a total of eleven times, always at random, always starting with a dull little headache that, after just a few hours, would suddenly bloom into days of fevers, splitting headaches, and nausea as he slipped in and out of consciousness. If any sunlight touched his eyes during that period, blinding pain always followed. Sometimes they occurred just months apart, sometimes years.

In the time since the last battle he had come to a …… _disturbing_ conclusion. '_Don't fool yourself Dalin, disturbing? Light, it was down right frightening was what it was_.' There was no other explanation; the episodes were a product of the taint, a parting gift, if you will, from the Dark One. Perhaps if al'Thor hadn't cleansed Saidin then that first time would've been the only one, as they would have progressed into something far, far, worse. A rotting body, an insane mind. As it stands the consequences of channeling tainted Saidin for that brief period was a weakness that would perhaps plague him for the rest of his life. At least they didn't seem to be getting any worse, as if held constant by the lack tainted Saidin entering his body. Al'Thor had saved his life, but he had paid his debts for that, as had every other loyal man that wore black.

When a sudden realization struck he quickly turned away from the window and quickly dressed, packed his saddle bags and shaved. He had told Bodewhin that he was going to be in Tar Valon in three days, but, conveniently, it was on the third day of his pretend business that he had felt the headaches and had made for the nearest tavern, just making it into this room while he could still walk. Meaning that, since each episode lasted two to four days, he was now well and truly late. '_And what if she thinks your running? What If she thinks you lied? Would she have told anyone by now? The Amyrlin? The whole Tower_?' He shuddered at the thought. Yet at the same time he was glad to have been able to keep this particular condition of his from her, the longer she didn't know of his weakness, the better. For the moment he ignored the proud Asha'man inside of him, that was screaming at him to be defiant, to not go. There would be a time later for defiance, but now he had to ensure that's his anonymity was maintained.

* * *

As she walked through the Blue Ajahs quarters, determined to do her duty and face whatever consequences come of it, she noted how the once welcoming and soothing corridors now appeared threatening and hostile. It was all in her mind, she was sure, but the place that she had lived in for the past three years, the place that she now called home, no longer felt like it was. She felt like she was an outsider, that she was trespassing, that she had lost the right to be here, lost the right to call herself Aes Sedai. An exaggeration perhaps, but still that was how she felt. 

Pausing for a moment she turned to study one of the tapestries that lined the wall, as it turned out it was one of the new ones. It was of a Blue sister and her warder surrounded by overwhelming numbers of Trollocs, their snarling, disfigured features where clearly and skillfully depicted. The Blue sister stood calmly and serenely, while pushing the Trollocs back with what seemed to be a combination of fire and lightening. In the distance behind her an army with the flame of Tar Valon on their banners was spilling out the trees and behind them stood the White Tower, as seen from a distance. Ironically it was a depiction of the event that led her to where she was, the first in a long line of events, at least.

Disdainfully she turned away from the tapestry and her eyes once again fixed on the many different shades of blue that made up the tiles on the floor, her destination drawing closer once more. Most sisters, and until recently, herself included, would call it a depiction of a great victory over the shadow. Tar Valon had been saved, the White Tower, a beacon of the light, still stood. Though the events had not been mentioned in Caemlyn, they had been alluded to and she had seen enough in his eyes to know what he thought. She hadn't even needed the bond. Those eyes, her warder's eyes, Dalin's eyes, which at first she had thought of as dull, had flared to life, burned like green fire and screamed one thing, betrayal. Through the bond she had felt a mixture of hate and rage swell, each feeding the other until he seemed to force them down, to force himself to calm. The scar was deep indeed.

As her path took her past yet another group of Aes Sedai, she tensed, her hands gripped her skirt before she noticed and quickly let it go. It had taken a long time for her to work up the courage to do what she must, if she was interrupted now…. Thankfully though, the two other Blues, Anlee and Reiko, were deep in conversation and didn't pay her any mind. She just barely stopped herself from sighing in relief. Deep within the tower a bell tolled, marking the hour. As sweat trickled down her back she reach the heavy wooden door that had plagued her sleep last night as her imposed time limit was drawing to a close. Taking a deep breath she composed herself, and knocked. As if to spite her a deep "Come" was heard from the other side. '_Why couldn't it have just been empty?_' she thought with remorse.

After hesitating for the briefest fraction of a second, she gathered her courage, opened the door and strode into the room with determination. The room she entered was richly decorated, mostly in shades of blue and expensive, richly polished, dark wood. The sitting contained a stylish desk with matching chairs, an empty fire place with some fine silver decorating the hearth and a couple of paintings adorned the walls. The white marble floor was covered in overlapping blue carpets. But just as she was congratulating herself for maintaining her composer and had began chiding herself for acting like a child earlier in the day, her eyes fell on Aes Sedai Eadyth Karmorel, First Selector and head of the Blue Ajah. She was sitting at her desk, papers splayed in front of her; one eyebrow was raised over one brown eye.

Her white hair was pulled back in a tight bun, though it normally fell loosely to her waist. Strange what you notice in moments like this. Absolutely positive that Eadyth could hear her racing heart she quickly made her curtsy, while murmuring "First Selector", after all she was head of the Ajah, customs had to be followed.

Surprise briefly touched her features, perhaps the use of the formalities surprised her, alerting her to the fact that this was no social visit, perhaps the tone of her voice suggested that something was amiss. She recovered quickly though, after all one did not gain the position of First Selector by been surprised by much. The round faced woman glanced down at the papers littering her desk and sighed, "Well, I suppose that the reports will have to wait," before she stood and calmly made her way over to the pitcher of chilled wine that was sitting on a small table against the wall. As she poured herself a glass she spoke over her shoulder in a tense voice, "Would you like some wine Bodewhin?"

Barely able to stop from laughing at what seemed such an absurd notion, alcohol was the last thing she needed at the moment, she responded as politely as possible, surprising herself at the levelness of her voice, "No, thank you."

Eadyth nodded ever so slightly at her refusal before turning around while sipping at her glass. After she swallowed she gazed directly into her eyes and said, "Very well. So what have you come to tell me?"

Although she had been preparing herself for this, had been practicing how she would approach the issue, she had not been prepared for Eadyth to be so direct and she found herself clumsily beginning, "Do you recall how I went to Caemlyn to investigate the death of one of our eyes and ears?"

"Of course I remember, I'm the one who told Cetalia to send you." That she had not known, she had thought the head of the eyes and ears had chosen her herself, but been chosen by the head of the Ajah was something else entirely, she didn't have time to dwell on it however. Eadyth looked at her sharply and said with some concern, "You concluded that she died of natural causes. If something has occurred to make you change your mind you-"

Not liking where this was going she cut in sharply, "No, Eadyth, it's not about that, I still believe that she died naturally. Her death was not murder." Eadyth's concern was understandable; there had been some deaths within their network that had not been so innocent in recent months. Seeing the woman visibly relax she hesitantly brought up the reason for her visit, "I need to talk to you about something else that occurred while I was in Caemlyn."

"Oh," Eadyth began, her brow furrowed in concentration, "so there was a reason you where late back was there, a whole day as I recall?"

"Yes, there was." she replied. Guilt riled within her at betraying his trust but three and a half days late told her she had been lied to. He had betrayed her first. She squashed the guilt down, hard. "On the way back from visiting the agent's family I think I was the target of footpads."

Again one eyebrow rose over one brown eye as she sipped at her wine, "You think?"

"Yes," she began sharply before continuing in a calmer voice, "I never actually saw them coming. One moment I was walking down the street, not paying attention to what was around me, concentrating on what I had just learnt, the next a man was running past me, telling me to run while drunkenly trying to pull his sword free." She paused and considered what to say next, but seeing the concerned look on Eadyth's face quickly continued, "I turned around to see one man decapitated, another running away and the man that had run past me was lying on the ground no more than five feet away with daggers sticking out of his chest."

"You need to be more mindful of your surroundings, especially in places like lower Caemlyn," she said but before Bodewhin could respond that she was pointing out the obvious, Eadyth continued in a concerned voice, "So the man that attacked the footpads died?"

As Eadyth moved to retake her chair she replied, "No, I healed him."

"So what is the problem dear?" she asked as she sat down.

_Dear_? She was grinding her teeth so much that it had actually begun to hurt. Was she treating her like she was a child? "The problem," she began in an irritated voice, "is that I had to bond him to keep him alive. After all he might have saved my life or at least he thought he was at the time."

"Ah, I thought as much." So she was not surprised was she? That would soon change. "What I don't see is why you have come to me. Obliviously you will want to release him and you know that you need the Amyrlin's permission for that and considering the circumstances I'm sure she'll grant it to you, now if that will be all I have work to do."

"That is not all," she began angrily; at her tone Eadyth turned to her in surprise, eyebrows raised, her wine glass was forgotten in her hand. Her mouth opened but she forestalled her, "While he was recovering from been healed the guards carried out an investigation into the death of the footpad, more specifically an investigation into his killer, my warder. It is what they found that I need to talk to you about"

"And?" she asked tersely.

"The guards found where he had been staying and searched his belongings. Most of it was normal, clothes, coins and such. But they also found a bag made of silk." She paused and stared right into Eadyth's eyes, trying to drive home what she was saying. "It contained two pins, one a simple sword made of silver, the other was made of gold and rich red emerald, in the shape of a sinuous Dragon." As she spoke the other woman was slowly standing, eyes wide. "Both were real."

Breathlessly the First Selector, the Head of the Blue Ajah and Sitter in the Hall of the Tower spoke, "An Asha'man? You bonded an Asha'man? You are sure?"

A tight smile graced her lips as she replied, "After he realized that I knew what he was, he shielded me and slammed me into a wall using _saidin, _breaking two of my ribs. He was in complete control of the weaves as if it was second nature to him, not clumsy like someone self taught or like the Reds warders. He's an Asha'man or I'll never see one." The only sound in the room was the dull thud of the wine glass hitting the floor.

A/N: Review if you like it's always interesting to hear your thoughts.


	5. To the Tower

Disclaimer: I own nothing, dang!

A/N: Sorry that this is so long, I didn't want it to be but for story pacing it had to be. Anyway I hope you like it. Again I have no beta so any mistakes that I haven't caught, I apologize. To those that reviewed, thanks.

The sun that was beating down overhead, like an overly oppressive blacksmiths furnace, did nothing to lessen the irritation he felt at traveling _this_ road, the road that lead to only one place. Wind frisked nervously beneath him and he did his best to calm the animal, '_Though_,' he noted dryly as he stroked the horses necked reassuringly, '_he was merely picking up on his riders feelings_.' It was a thought that galled him, ate at him on the inside, it should not be this way, he should not be nervous about this. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he thought about the honor of the Black Tower, about the ghosts of the man that wore black, those men that he had to live up to, it still did not lessen.

His mind would drift to the unthinkable, to a thought that he did his best to ignore but it would come anyway, about whether he truly was the last, the only one left alive. It was then that he felt the ghosts of the past most keenly. Their faces would flash before his eyes, men that he had entered training with, those that had taught him what he needed to know to survive. They were honorable men, brave men, men that answered the call of the Light and faced down the taint, faced down insanity and rotting to death, so that they could oppose the Shadow at the time of mankind's greatest need. It was as if they were looking over his shoulder, watching his every move, judging his every decision. What he did in life would reflect on them in death. Yet he was only one man, one man, thousands of women at the Tower and the reputation of the Asha'man to maintain. _That_, more than anything, is what made him nervous, much more than the silhouette of the White Tower shooting into the sky in the distance.

Looking over his shoulder he was once again glad that the road behind him was clear. Traveling using the One Power presented strange problems, especially if you were trying to remain hidden, unnoticed and unremarkable. Over the years he had learnt that suddenly appearing on a road, once he made his way from were the gateway opened, was a way to gain attention. Especially if someone was traveling close behind and noticed the beginning of new tracks, as if from nowhere. In dangerous times, like now, people were alert when traveling out in the open and even this close to Tar Valon, these were dangerous roads.

Satisfied that no one had been close enough, that no one was coming up behind him with a wagon or merchant train and that there were no patrols by the Guards near by, he reached into his saddle bags and extracted some food, before once again focusing on the road before him. The well worn cobble stones seemed to run away indefinitely, the light dusting of dirt on top was evidence enough of heavy traffic. '_It took a lot out of you this time_, _Dalin_, _for you to be this hungry, so soon_,' he warned himself, worried. It had never been this way before. The food, dried meat and bread, had been pressed upon him by the innkeeper and his wife. Apparently both had thought he was dying, sometime during his ordeal they had called for the village wisdom, or whatever they called it in Cairhien and she had been unable to help, declaring it as just a matter of time. The shocked looks he had received from them when he had appeared in the common room then, apparently fit and healthy, were hardly surprising.

A smile tugged at his features as he recalled their faces, wide eyes and mouths. '_Serves them right_,' he thought glumly, '_they could have at least poked before declaring me a dying man_.' They had probably been more worried about the fact they were going to have to bury him, then at the fact that he might not have been able to pay for his room. He had been unable to escape quickly of course, once she had recovered from her shock the innkeepers wife, he could not remember there names as he had been desperately trying to leave, had forced him to eat lunch and proceeded to serve him enough for three meals. She had stood over him until he was finished, mothering him, and not allowing him to leave until he was done.

After the plate was finally clean he had quickly thanked them, paid for his room, saddled Wind and ridden away at a gallop. Not been able to find the place where his last gateway had opened he had been forced to skim north. A process that took him an hour to traverse most of the hundred or so leagues to Bode rather than the few seconds that it would have taken had he been able to open a gateway. His time within the black nothingness outside the pattern had left him with little else to do but think and it was when he was alone with his thoughts that the doubts had begun to plague him. Now he could barely force himself to complete the journey, let alone make Wind increase his speed.

It, unfortunately, wasn't long before Wind led him over a rise and there, glistening as it bathed in the sun like a polished jewel, stood Tar Valon. Sitting perched on its island in the middle of the River Erinin Tar Valon seemed surreal, unlike anything that should be able to be built. The six bridges that spanned the river to the mainland stood proud, distinguished. The shinning walls, beautiful, the city itself seemed to have been grown rather than built, a sure sign of the Ogier's hand in its construction. The Tower itself stood tall, monolithic and absolutely stunning. At least that was Tar Valon from a distance.

The beautiful following waters of the Erinin surrounding what was in reality the seat of power for a pathetic group of women that did little but care about their own power and their own perceived importance. _Aes Sedai_, they called themselves, 'servants of all' it was meant to mean but they did little other than serve themselves. '_They cannot comprehend that the rest of the world just does not care about what they do, they deserve everything they get. All except two that is. That's what I'm walking into? I must be a fool_._'_ he thought glumly. But he had little choice, Bode had done nothing wrong in bonding him and now he had to put up with the situation, however much he despised it.

In the distance he felt something that he had not felt in a _very_ long time. Someone other than himself was channeling Saidin. It was faint, weak, but it was there, pulsating slightly as if someone was struggling to hold a constant amount of Saidin, clumsily struggling not to draw too much. Now that was something that had not crossed his mind. Living in the same place as the Red Ayah's pets and hiding among them. They were warders after all. '_Now that is going to be fun, not channeling Saidin, not reacting when they do, and hiding everything I do. This just keeps getting better_.' He thought with disdain.

Lost in his own thoughts he had not noticed the trees that were on either side of the road thinning, had not noticed the city coming ever closer. What drew him out of his thoughts were the people that had begun to pass him, coming from and going to the city. The six bridges of Tar Valon provided bottlenecks in the streams of traffic. Wagons, horses and long lines of people all got in each others way at the openings, creating frayed tempers and frustrated wagon drivers. For his part the slowness of the entry into Tar Valon was a blessing as it allowed him to gather himself and focus on what needed to be done. Find Bode and slip as seamlessly as possible into life at the Tower.

Soon, far too soon for his liking, Wind reached the Darein Bridge and crossed the river. The slow pace the animal was setting did nothing to lessen the apprehension he felt as he passed beneath the great stone arch of the Shinning Walls of Tar Valon. The guards were watching everyone warily as he passed, fingering the hilts of there weapons as if expecting to need to use them at any moment. Was it just his imagination or did they stare at him longer than anyone else? '_You're just paranoid, Dalin_.' He tried to tell himself, yet he could not stop himself from glancing over his shoulder as he was moving into the streets of the city and regretted it immediately. He had not seen the two Aes Sedai that had also been standing guard, their ageless face standing out in the crowd. The red on their shawls indicated their Ajahs. But it seemed he was just paranoid, none of them, the guards or the Reds, were paying him any attention, rather they seemed to be arguing among themselves about something or other.

Annoyed at the relief he felt he was immediately struck by a thought that nearly floored him. '_It's hot, the middle of summer and the Aes Sedai aren't sweating_,' which was to be expected, '_and I am not sweating_! _Light, that simple trick of the mind was something I do without even thinking about it; it's as natural as breathing. How am I going to remember that at all times I need to sweat?_' He was going to stand out as much as if he was channeling. '_Well done Dalin,'_ he sardonically congratulated himself,_ 'you may as well have worn your old uniform with your pins attached_.' Concentrating he let himself feel the heat for the first time in years, let himself notice now hot it was, let his body react naturally to it. '_This is going to be hard_,_ almost as hard as learning not to sweat in the first place._'

Feeling the sweat trickle down his back, and silently congratulating himself for it, he took in the city. He had been here once before, but hadn't stopped to really _see_ the city, he hadn't dared. The streets before him were broad and paved in smooth grey stone, with the central promenade stretching directly to the milky-white stones of the White Tower. The people seemed happy and content, safe. Seeing the city from a distance could not do it justice, the buildings were far more beautiful and intricate up close than from a distance, each one different from the last, even the lowliest inn was grander then the most reputed establishment in other cities. In short, it was wondrous, from the monuments to the parks and fountains, it truly was beautiful. But that did not mean he liked it.

For him, for any Asha'man, there was no way he could enjoy what was before him. As he made his way through the city to the Tower the thought angrily echoed in his mind, '_This was the city that the Black Tower had died for; this was the city that destroyed the Asha'man_.' He hated this place, from the flowing streets and the wonderfully constructed buildings, he hated it all. What it stood for was against everything that he believed in, city of decadence, city of traitors. Every single ageless face that he saw in the crowd made his blood boil. So many, so many and he wasn't even halfway to the Tower yet. He had already seen more ageless faces in the streets of Tar Valon than he optimistically believed were Asha'man alive. With disdain heavy in his heart he forced himself to stop counting, forced himself to concentrate on getting to the Tower and letting Bode know he was here.

* * *

She would not run, she would walk, slowly and calmly, she would not bring undue attention to herself. With a frustrated sigh she forced herself to let go of her skirts and relax her hands, once again silently cursing the man for doing this to her. This was _not _how it was meant to be, an Aes Sedai was not meant to be happy that her warder decided to grace her with his presence. She was not meant to be thrilled that he had decided to come after all, not meant to be excited at the prospect that her warder _may_ come to accept her. Yet this was hardly a normal situation, hardly a normal relationship between bonded and bond holder, if it could even be called that yet.

The fool man had almost caused her extreme embarrassment with the highest of her Ajah, something that was almost unforgivable. When the bond had suddenly bloomed to life in her head, she had just barely managed to stop herself from answering a simple question from Eadyth, 'Where is he now?' It was a question that she had dreaded from the moment that she had walked into the room, a question that she had been about to answer in a manner that would have disgraced her for years. Her mouth had opened, her stomach had been churning terribly and suddenly, as if the creator had taken a personal hand, he was there. No warning, no gentle, slow, reconnection, he was just there and shockingly, he was on Tower grounds.

Having managed to convince Eadyth that the purpose of her visit had merely been to inform her that she had bonded an Asha'man, something that she might not have done successfully, taking into account the look on the First Selectors face as she had departed, she had begun making her way to her wayward warder. The halls of the Tower passed in a blur, through the Blue Ajahs quarters and then down. The Accepted levels of the Tower passed her by, the dinning rooms and the Novice quarters all came and went. Accepted, Novices and servants bowed as she past them, she hardly noticed.

What did register however was every ageless face she saw, every woman that had earned the shawl and had sworn the oaths. With every one a small fear had begun to grow within her, tiny at first but with each passing face it got worse, especially if that face belonged to a Red. She began to fear for her warder, began to fear that without her there someone may take an interest in a man that was loitering around the Tower grounds and however unreasonable, she began to fear that what he was may be exposed, '_what if it was a Red_?' It was a more than disturbing thought.

What kept her calm, at least on the outside she appeared calm, was that he was unconcerned. Bored, angry, nervous, tired, hot and hungry but if there was an ounce of fear in him she could not detect it. She was not sure what to make of _that_. Once she got him to the Blue's Quarters he would be safe, no one would question him if he came with her and some may even welcome a new warder to the Blue. Once it became know that Dalin Zahear was Bodewhin Cauthon's warder he would be safe, no one would pay him any attention, but until then there was a slight possibility that something could go wrong.

With deliberate slowness she walked through the main foyer of the White Tower, past those of the general public who were waiting patiently in line for an audience with an Aes Sedai, most of which were starring around in open wonder at the grandeur that surrounded them. From the pristine white floors that were so polished you could see your reflection, the high ceilings and richly decorated walls, it was an impressive sight, but one she was not interested in today. Ignoring the people she walked through the delicately carved stonework that decorated the entrance to the main hall, and out through the heavy, gold plated, doors and into the open sunlight.

With a measured stride she took the path that led to her right, which led past the gardens, the west stables and the barracks that housed the Gaidin. Which meant he was waiting at…..the training grounds? Her stomach began to tighten again, '_Why in the name of the light would he be waiting there of all places_?' Now that she was closer and the bond was clear she could feel a certain amount of concentration from him and ……_Disgust_? She fought the urge to walk faster, fought the urge to reach out to _Saidar _to comfort herself.

The hot wind that seemed to be sweeping over Dragonmount and down to the city scattered dry leaves before her as she walked down the wide, twisting, graveled path. Once again she forced her hands to her side, forced herself to maintain the illusion of serenity. She avoided meeting the eye of anyone that passed, not allowing a single distraction. Fortunately the path could quite easily fit six people abreast and there was only a light scattering of people about, and fewer that had the authority to talk to her, let alone stop her, unless circumstances demanded it.

Apart from the tops of the towers that could be seen, here and there, above the tree line blocking out the light scattering of clouds, one could be forgiven for thinking they weren't in the middle of the a city at all but rather in the countryside, one that was well kept. It was exactly the illusion that the designers of the gardens had planned, an escape from the tower, an escape from the riggers of training for the novices. But this day she hardly noticed, her mind replaying the events of Caemlyn over and over, desperately trying to decide how best to approach her warder, what tactics to use, what method would work best. '_Should she scold him for being late? Had it been intentional to show her she was not in charge, or was there some other meaning behind it entirely_? There was so much that could go wrong, so much that she had to avoid, so much she did not know and she dared not misstep.

Before too much longer the sound of wooden sticks being clattered together reached her ears, signifying her impending arrival at the warders training grounds. Turning off the main path and into a thin scattering of trees, she started of, straight as an arrow, for her warder. He hadn't moved an inch since he had suddenly appeared in her head and, as she came over a small rise, she saw him. There, across the expanse of ground that was covered in pairs of bare-chested men training with wooden weapons, be they sword, spear or axe, sat her warder. A quick, hopefully unnoticed, glance around found the presence of six Aes Sedai and twice as many Accepted. Thankfully they all seemed fixated on the men below them and none paid her any mind.

Dalin seemed unconcerned with her approach, looking to her right, not even glancing in her direction. He was sitting on a rough stone bench, his back leaning against a leatherleaf tree with his saddle bags and sword on the ground beside him. His arms were folded across his chest and his expression was, as much as she could make out from this distance, dark. From the direction he was facing, away from the men that were before her, there was only one thing he could be looking at and, as realization struck, she allowed herself to quicken her pace.

She rounded the training yard and came up behind him, making sure that the surrounding area was isolated. The clatter from the men behind them acting as a shield, nothing they said would be heard. Considering what she felt in the bond she quickly decided that he would not respond well to a firm approach. As she slowly took a seat beside him on the stone bench, she followed his gaze and she saw what she knew she would. She gently asked the question that first came to her mind, "I thought that this would be that last place you would want to be, why are you here?"

For the first time his gaze flicked to her face, what he was hoping to see she did not know, before returning to the thirteen men and five Aes Sedai below them. He watched as one of the man, which one she did not know, used _Saidin_ to lift a large rock. It stuttered, swayed and then shakily held its place. A bearded man turned around to look at the Aes Sedai, all of which were Reds. In a stern voice that they could not quite make out one of them, Desala Nevanche, said something and the rock dropped to the ground before it started its uneven rise again. Just when she thought he wasn't going to reply his voice startled her, even and soft, "There's no point in avoiding this…abomination." He paused, watching the rock rise once more and then continued, "How can they stand to be treated like that?"

"They have little choice," she replied, "the Reds claimed this job before anyone could stop them and now it's too late to take it away from them." In response he grunted. The rock began to rise again before unexpectedly dropping to the ground, in response the light of _Saidar_ surrounded Desala and a small whip of air lashed out and stuck the bearded man across the back. Desala was not known for being soft. She hid a wince, hopefully he hadn't noticed that. She tentatively asked a question that she wasn't sure how she wanted him to respond, "You could change that. Would you train them?"

He looked at her incredulously, "Train the Red Ajahs warders? Train men that want nothing to do with the Asha'man, who accept being little more than pets to those women?" he shock his head in disgust before answering in a more controlled voice, "never." She was surprised to feel gladdened by that. He wasn't finished though, he raised his right hand and point at two of the Aes Sedai that were standing together, "What's happening there?"

The two women shared several things in common, both were red, both had bonded men that can channel and both were pregnant. "Warders and their bondholders do sometimes marry, it is not that uncommon and, well, that tends to happen when people get married as I'm sure you're aware." She said. She hoped that that was what he had been talking about…if it was the other thing she had no answer. It was an unspoken mystery to everyone in the Tower that was not Red, '_Why are all the Reds that have bonded men that can channel so young_? _Almost too young_?' But that was a question for Aes Sedai and did not concern him. Deciding to take the conversation away from the awkward topic of warders and marriage she turned her attention to other matters, "I thought you said three days?"

She felt him tense through the bond, everything went seemed to freeze and he answered stoically, "Something occurred that I had no control over." He turned his head and looked directly at her, "it won't happen again."

'_So he chose not to lie but not to tell her what had actually happened, did he_?' Trust was a very precious commodity and she realized that she did not have his. "I see." She answered, her tone cool. "I checked the list; your name is not on it"

"The list?" he asked, his confusion strongly flowing to her over the bond, and all of a sudden he was like an animal, ready to pounce in any direction.

"The list of names of Asha'man, the women that were at the Black Tower compiled it while they were held captive. They did more than teach the Asha'man things." She replied, and felt him relax a little, "Are you still holding to what you said in Caemlyn, that you have no idea where the Asha'man are, where the Black Tower is?"

A small, tight smile graced his features, "You probably have a better idea of where they are, if they are anywhere, than me. I, on the other hand, have not seen an Asha'man since the Last Battle." As he said this he rubbed his arms as if he was cold and something she had heard once came back to her. That was how males knew _Saidar_ was been channeled near them, but she had not expected it to be like this. '_What would it be like in the Tower itself_?' "The Tower has no idea where they are, I have no idea where they are." she said, leaving no room for argument. Thinking of the Tower led to thinking about Eadyth and the questions she posed, questions that she had not thought to ask him in Caemlyn. "Your not…" she stopped, collected herself and tried again, "You don't have a family do you?"

He looked at her quizzically before he replied, "Are you asking if I'm married?" At her brief nod he barked out a rough laugh, "Married. Now there is something I haven't thought about for years."

"So you're not then?" she pressed.

"Some had no problem with it, marring a woman before the last battle, even with the madness waiting, some had families already. I was not one of those men. And after," he paused to watch the rocks lift into the air once more, "After, I could never stay in one place for too long. So no, I'm not married."

"And your family, your parents? Where were you born? " she asked hesitantly.

Pain and sadness flooded along the bond, she had opened an old scar. His face went entirely blank and his eyes took on a distant look and she knew he was seeing things that had happened long ago. His voice was very soft when he answered, "I was not one of the men that got recruited to join the Legion of the Dragon and later got tested to see if they could channel. I was one of the men that wanted to learn, I was one of the ones that when they heard al'Thor's proclamation went to the Black Tower to learn to control the One Power." Great sadness entered his voice then, "When my parents leant what I was planning to do, where I was planning to go, they said that if I left to never come back, that I was no longer their son, they disowned me. I've not seen them since." He shook his head, as if to dispel the memories from it before finishing, "So in answer to your first question, I have no family. And as for the second, I was born and lived in a small village called Sidon, on the River Boern, in Ghealden"

She could not imagine such a thing, then again she could not imagine a man _wanting _to learn to channel while the taint was still on _Saidin_. '_What type of man had she leashed herself too?_' It was obviously still a sore topic for him, she didn't think anything she could say would make a difference but she had to try, "Perhaps now things would be different, now that everyone knows what happened at the last battle."

"Perhaps." Was the only reply she got and she knew the matter was closed. Therefore she was surprised when he spoke, "Watching this has begun to irritate me," he said, indicating the scene below them "is there some place we can go?"

She nodded and stood indicating that he should follow, which he did, stopping only to pick up his sword and sling his saddle bags over one shoulder. "We can go to my rooms; we'll be more comfortable there."

"Fantastic," he replied sarcastically as he walked along beside her, staring directly at the White Tower looming in front of them, "we have much to talk about." He then turned his attention back to her and continued, "Like you, for instance, is there more or is it just Bodewhin?"

A small smile lit up her features and she replied, "Of course there's more."

"And what would that be?" he pressed, now on the offensive.

Her smile bloomed to take up her whole face and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she replied, "Bodewhin Sedai." She was rewarded with the sound of his rich laugh, a distant part of her noting it was the first time she had heard it.

* * *

The wind rushed past his face, blowing back his near shoulder length hair. The night air was only slightly cooler than it had been in the middle of the day, but that was not what was on his mind. Gripping the reins tightly in one hand he laughed in sheer delight as he lent forward over the saddle, barely noticing the branches of the trees that whipped past his face, threatening to latch onto his cloths and pull him out of the saddle, violently.

Charging down the small, rarely used, trail in the middle of the West Wood with only the pale moon light that filtered down through the branches to see by. At any one of the sharp turns there could be disaster, at any moment his mount, Jenas, could find a hole and snap his leg, throwing him clear at break neck speed, or worse taking him down with the animal. It was reckless, foolhardy and completely moronic but Jaim Aybara didn't care, nothing could touch him, nothing would go wrong. Ever since his eighteenth birthday two weeks ago things had been going right for Jaim, from foolish fights with wagon guardsmen that passed through town that he somehow managed to win, to finding the courage to sweep Nanci al'Seen off her feet at the dance, something that would have been unimaginable a few weeks ago.

The only bad thing that had happened was that brief sickness that had left him bedridden, but that had gone as quickly as it had come. The wisdom was baffled, unable to say why he got sick, unable to say why he got better. '_But I did and that is all that is important, all that matters on such a glorious night,'_ he determinedly reminded himself. As he had so often in the past few days he let his worries evaporate, let them fade to nothingness and he was once again left with the unimaginable confidence pulsating through his veins. A few weeks ago he didn't know it was possible to feel this good, to be this sure of one self. But now, now he knew and it was intoxicating.

Galloping at full speed Jenas seemed to slip through the air rather than pass through it. The animal's heavy breathing was, somehow, only a distant sound in his own ears, his own heart beat been much louder as his excitement built. Rounding another almost unseen corner, a branch tugged at his shoulder, throwing him momentarily of balance before he found the safety of his seat again. The combination of the tight corner, speed and unbalanced rider caused Jenas to slip on the damp ground; chunks of earth were thrown up by the failing legs as they sought purchase before the animal righted himself and once again they were soaring along Dead Man's Trail, delighted laughter once again spilled into the night.

If at all possible he leaned even further forward in his saddle as they rounded a gentle curve and his destination came into view, digging his heels into the horse's flanks he begged for every ounce of speed that the animal had left, they were going to need it all. His long hair bounced up and down on his neck in rhythm with Jenas's stride, the large smile that seemed permanently etched on his face didn't falter when Dead Man's Gap came into view.

As wide as a good sized river, the Gap that the trail had been named after had only come into been after an earthquake when he was ten. Ever since this trail had been deemed impassable, to dangerous to even attempt and such it had become a constant source of fascination for every boy, and some girls, in the Two Rivers. Impassible they said, too dangerous to even attempt that jump, they said. While many thought they were right, Jaim been among them until a few weeks ago, he was now feeling very unconcerned about the prospect of the jump, and the forty foot fall onto hard, rugged stone if they didn't make it. '_Time to do what no-one else has even attempted_,' he thought delightedly. With rolling eyes Jenas came to the Gap and to his credit didn't slow a whisker, instead he trusted his rider and as they got into position he leaped for all he was worth.

The sensation of moving through the air unsupported was like nothing he had ever felt, of soaring as if it would never stop. The world seemed, just for a fraction of a second, to stand still. He could imagine how he looked, the moonlight bathing him in its eerie glow, Jenas fully extended beneath him and the Gap below. His hair would have been thrown back as he laughed up into the sky, savoring the moment as best he could. But like all good things, all good moments, it came to an end far quicker than it should have. Jenas began the inevitable downward arch of his jump, time seemed to catch up to them and before he knew it they were once again on solid ground, the horse was desperately trying to stop with his legs splayed out in front of him, which quickly brought them to a halt.

The sound of his own breathing heavy I his ears, he turned back to savior his victory, and he couldn't help himself, "I am the first," he shouted out into the breathless night, "the first across the Gap." He had shouted as loud as he could, loud enough that he heard a faint echo in the distance. Glancing down at the ground where they had landed his good mode faulted, but only for a second, "Inches," he whispered to himself, "there were only inches in it. Well that makes it all the more memorable."

The ledge on this side of the gap was undisturbed for only about an inch and a half before the first of Jenas's prints could be clearly seen. A few inches longer and his life might have ended down the bottom of the Gap this night. But like all things lately it didn't faze him for long. This was a night of victory, and his distinguished cousin was due in town tomorrow. With his recklessness sedated for the moment he turned and rode at a more sensible pace back to Edmonds Field, already imagining the looks on his friend's faces when he told them what he did this night.

A/N: I am not happy with the first two sections of this chapter but I hope you liked it anyway, but I have a question: Is what I'm getting at in the last part obvious, just right or do you have no idea what I'm talking about?


	6. Different place, Different time

Disclaimer: I own nothing and never have.

A/N: I hope you all like this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Again there will probably be mistakes that i can't spot, sorry i guess, you will just have to put up with them.

Below him the waves relentlessly crashed to shore, one after the other, seemingly in a planned melody that only nature was allowed to know. There was something to be said for the ocean, he had decided not long after coming to this place, a tranquility that drew him here at the beginning of each day like a moth to a flame. Perhaps it was the majesty of the cascading waves as they made for shore, perhaps the beauty of the sun glistening of the crest of each wave just after beginning its inevitable climb over the horizon to his right, sending rippling streams of light in all directions. Perhaps it was in the way the waves crashed into the bluffs below with a dull roar, spending great torrents of water shooting up into the sky before they dissolved into fine mists. Whatever it was, it clamed him, soothed him, spoke to his very soul.

He watched as another set rolled forward, ever forward, watched the sea birds skimming over the water, searching for food, the bluffs below providing a perfect place for them to nest. Their joyful chatter and seemingly undisturbed play was a highlight of his mornings. So simple, so natural, exactly as it should be. When the wind was strong enough, as it often seemed to be in this place, the birds would simply float on the currents, hanging in place effortlessly, suspended from reality. It would not happen today, unfortunately, there was barely a breeze to speak of.

Behind him the first stirrings of life could be heard, the clatter of the blacksmiths hammer on anvil, the opening and closing of doors, horses hoofs clattering on the cobblestone streets, voices speaking in hushed tones, trying not to disturb those still in their blankets. Distantly, from the very top of the hill the small settlement was nestled against, a bell could be heard, signifying the start of a new day.

He did not look behind him to see it all; he knew it was there, he also knew what wasn't. There had been so much progress, yet, there was still so much to do, so much that demanded his attention, but he felt no great rush, time been one of the things they had in abundance. That thought brought a pleased smile to his lips, a smile that tugged at the small scar on his face. It had not always been so, at one time it had been the most precious commodity that they possessed, each second counted as special, as only it can be when any second could be your last. Now the abundance brought only possibilities and it was those that brought him here at the beginning of each day, to stare in the direction of the land that had forsaken them.

Behind him the sound of running footsteps could be heard, each passing second bringing them closer. It seemed a messenger had been sent down to find him. '_It must be important, for them to bother me when I'm here of all places_.' The thought brought a small amount of anxiety into his otherwise peaceful morning, it seemed today was not going to be another normal day.

He took the sight before his eyes in for as long as he could, he was now watching the fisherman heading out against the currents from the small inlet to his left, yet when the young man skidded to a halt beside him and a brought his fist to his heart, his morning ritual was prematurely broken. His attention fully focused on the young man gasping for breath on his right, yet his eyes still on the small boats, he spoke in what he hoped was a displeased voice, "Yes, soldier?"

To his credit the young man, Garred Eldin he now saw out the corner of his eye, didn't even flinch and got straight to the point, "My lord Kardlin Manfor has returned and this time he brings news," he paused an angry sneer claiming his features before he continued in rough voice, "he found the new village, they have started again. The oldest he saw was six."

The young man had cause to be upset, he had once been in one of those villages, had once known of nothing else. '_So they persist with the abomination even after what we did? Things like this have to be …discouraged_.' For the first time he faced Garred and with concern noted that perhaps he was a little to angry, "It will be taken care off," he waited until he saw Gerrad give a satisfied nod before he continued, "you have wasted enough time, back to your chores soldier." The dismissal couldn't have been plainer.

Once again the fist came to his heart before he spoke in a respectful voice, "Yes M'Hael" before he turned and started back up the hill in a slow jog. This was a …interesting development, though not entirely unexpected. They had, after all, been looking for this place for years. '_Light, six? They must have been planning this for a long time. He would have to talk to Asha'man Kardlin at length'_. With one quick glance out and far out into the ocean, to the inverted weave that he had placed with _Callandor,_ a weave that would hid this place from any passing ship, Logain Ablar turned and followed the young soldier back up the steep hill at a more sedate pace, the immense building looming only half built in front of him a welcome sight, the people in the city greeting him warmly as he passed.

* * *

………_the mass of black coats made for an imposing sight, like an unstoppable avalanche that was about to descend on unsuspecting victims. Thirteen hundred they numbered in total, they were all that was left of the once proud Black Tower. Taim had done his best to destroy them, done his best to make the nations hate them and today they would get there revenge. _

_The early morning sunshine was only partially braking through the heavy clouds, every now and then bathing the gathered army in sunlight. In the hills outside Bandar Eban they had gathered, as per the Dragons orders. From every nation the came, the cadin'sor clad Aiel, black veils raised, the White Lion, the Golden Bees, the Golden Crane, the Rising Sun, they all fluttered in the breeze before there respective armies. The Band of the Red Hand, the Legion of the Dragon, the Borderlanders, the Seanchan and the Ogier were all present and accounted for. They all stood silently, armed and ready, waiting. _

_Three million they numbered, all told, he had never seen so many men together in one place and most likely he never would again. Before the armies stood the Asha'man, waiting patiently on the mounts, they needed no banner, the sliver sword and dragon been more than enough. To their right Rand al'Thor stood listening to an Aes Sedai who seemed to be desperately pleading with him, desperately trying to change his mind. The advance party they called themselves and numbering little more than one hundred and fifty, that they were. Before them all two banners flew, one the Dragon on a field of pure white, the other the long dead symbol of the Aes Sedai._

_A low murmuring went through the gathered men, like a whisper taken by the breeze, as al'Thor broke away from the Aes Sedai and even from this distance Dalin could tell something was not right. The Dragon Reborn's face could have been etched in stone as he swiftly rode back to the relatively small group of people that waited at the head of the army._

_No one spoke, the only sounds that could be heard was the sound of impatiently stamping horses, the flapping of the banners in the wind and every now and then the clanking of metal on metal could be heard as armored men moved. Every eye followed Rand al'Thor as he briefly conferred with the small group of people before riding out in front of the army and faced them, his single hand holding his reins, his stump tucked safely in his clothes. He wore a scarlet shirt overlaid with white, the colors of his banner and before Dalin could wonder what he was doing, before he could begin to worry once more that his mind might not be all there, he felt the Saidin fill the dragon and he began to speak softly, his voice carried to the gathered armies on weaves of the one power._

"_This battle has been fought many times, countless times, since the beginning of time, the Light against the Dark, Dark against the Light and now it comes time for us to play our part, time for us to fight our battle against the Shadow. Fore if we do not fight this day all will be consumed by the darkness." He paused as if trying to think of how to continue. It was then that the first signs of life could be heard from the armies and it came from the Aiel. It started softly amongst a few before spreading to every single one; they were beating their spears rhythmically against their bull-hide bucklers. _

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_It was almost all consuming except for Rand al'Thor's voice been heard above the seductive beat, "You all stand before me having answered the call of the Light but know this, despite what prophecy says, victory today is not certain. We all go to Shayol Ghul with parts to play, I must play mine and you must play yours. The price of victory this day will be high, there is no escaping that, but the price of failure is even higher. This day we fight in the Lights name and this day it ENDS" the last came as a shout and it was answered with a roar from the gathered army, soldiers of the nations drew there weapons and began drumming them on anything they could find, from shields to breastplates, all in rhythm. _

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_Rand al'Thor's voice could only just be heard above the din as the Lord of Morning gave his blessing, "The Light shine on you, soldier of the Light, and may you shelter in the palm of the Creator's hand." he continued in a slightly softer voice and Dalin knew it was for those that would not return, "May the last embrace of the mother welcome us home." With that he turned to the small group of Asha'man that had been waiting for his signal and nodded. Instantly they linked with the Aes Sedai that they had bonded and opened a gateway that slowly spun open half a mile wide. _

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_RAT-tat-tat-tat._

_As it began to open Logain's voice could be heard, "Asha'man forward!" and they moved. Like a black arrow head they formed the tip of the army, surrounding al'Thor and his entourage, as per there orders and began charging at a slow gallop to the gateway. The dull thunder of three million soldiers and half as many horses chasing after them followed them through the gateway. _

_Blood boiling in his ears, heart pounding and his stomach doing summersaults Dalin charged along with the rest of them. On his left Canler was shouting out there orders as if they had forgotten, "Remember we get al'Thor to the pit of doom than make sure NOTHING goes down after him, Remember that, NOTHING." Dalin didn't see how they could have forgotten, seeing as it had been drilled into them all of yesterday but this was hardly the time and place for mentioning that particular piece of information. _

_The first thing that he noticed as he moved with the mass of bodies through the gateway was the hot air that unexpectedly hit his face, the second was the lightening the was striking up from the ground above the mountain and the third were the uncountable masses of Trollocs that, having overcome their shock, were starting to charge at them. _

_He embraced Saidin and felt every man around him do likewise, fire and ice coursed along his bones, ignited his soul. With the power filling him he could see in the distance a black hole in the mountain leading down, a glowing red light could be seen emanating from it. 'The Pit of Doom' his mind whispered to him and he involuntarily shuddered._

_Suddenly a clear crisp note filled the air, seemingly coming from everywhere at once, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life, so sweet, so mournful. The air seemed to resonate with that note, a mist began to rise, whipping at the horses feet and the hero's came._

_They collided with the Trollocs lines with a loud crunch, soldiers screamed as they died on either side of him. Callandor burned like the sum in Logain's hands clearing a path through the Trollocs, straight to the hole in the mountain. Dalin began to weave as he had been instructed, blossoms of fire, fire arrows and Deathgates, everything he knew. The explosions from the blossoms of fire throwing Trollocs in every direction, the hundreds of Deathgates cutting large swathes through their lines. Hot and heavy he channeled for all he was worth. Behind him the twang of thousands of crossbows could be heard as the Legion of the Dragon let loose their first volley, in a matter of moments thousands of black streaks passed overhead before falling among the Trollocs with devastating results._

_Just when he thought that they might actually make it to the Pit of Doom relatively unscathed, gateways opened up among the Trollocs, spewing forth what had to be Darkfriends and Dreadlords, man and women both, and it began to rain lightening. In this wild maelstrom one thought came to his panicking mind, 'Where in the name of the Light are the bloody Aes Sedai?' Originating from the mountain an incomprehensible scream echoed across the battlefield, the ground shock violently, tossing man and animal alike to the ground. People began to die in earnest as Shai'tan took a direct hand in the battle…_

* * *

…..He jerked upright in the bed, gasping for breath. Images burned across his vision no matter how hard he tried to make them go away. Against all his wishes he saw Canler die again, saw Rand al'Thor thrown from his horse, saw the Asha'man driven to near extinction. He forced his hands to release the blanket, tried to force them to stop shaking. '_At least I made it further through it this time_,' he glumly tried to congratulate himself while he swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to get his bearings and, after a quick glance around the room, promptly let out a groan. 

From the light blue blanket, that had ruffles for Lights sake, to the bed that was most defiantly not his, the smell of perfume that clung to it was more than enough of an indication of that, and the small Aes Sedai that was standing at the foot of the bed, it was all almost too much. How had he come to sleep in her room? In her bed? He most certainly hadn't intended to. But he could tell finding the answer to those problems was going to be secondary, the look on bodes face was hardly a delighted one, he had no need of the bond at all, the woman was angry.

"You have been ill," she accused, not bothering to soften her voice for a man that had just woken, "why would you keep this from me?"

Still trying to collect himself he decided to deflect her question with one of his own, best to find out what she actually knows before he admitted to anything, "What makes you think I have been ill?" It was an effort to keep his voice steady, an effort to keep his still shaking hands from her vision.

Had she been anything other than an Aes Sedai she would have been rolling her eyes if what he was feeling through the bond was anything to go by. She satisfied herself with crossing her arms across her chest and giving him a smoldering glare before answering. "We came back to my room's yesterday afternoon, I had to leave you here when I was summoned to the hall to report on the mission that I undertook in Caemlyn. From what I felt through the bond you went to sleep soon after I left, in my bed I might add, and you have just woken up." She turned and gave a pointed look at the windows which, now that he noticed, the sun was just beginning to creep through and spill into the bedroom through the open shutters. "It's now dawn."

Surprised confusion filled him and he asked himself in an incredulously, '_I slept all the way through to dawn?_' Unable to stop himself he shuddered, it had never affected him like this before, never lingered after he began feeling better for more than a few hours. '_Perhaps having it occur so soon after nearly dieing and been healed has something to do with it_.' he tried to console himself, only partially successfully. Fear began to grow before he stomped on it, hard. Replacing it with anger he spoke in a rough voice, "You had no need to know, I thought it was over," than far more emphatically then he felt, "It is over."

"No need to know?" she questioned softly, "You are my warder, my responsibility. We are not meant to keep things like this from each other, especially things like this, and one way or another you are going to have to learn that."

He gave a bitter laugh as he stood and faced her, secretly glad that his hands were still, the images of the Last Battle already fading to the recesses of his mind, "Not meant to keep things from each other?" he asked rhetorically, "then why won't you tell me your last name?" That had surprised him, when she had avoided answering such a simple question.

Through the bond he felt her calm a little as a small amount of guilt began to worm its way through her, "I have my reasons for that," she said, leaving no room for argument, "there is much more to me than a name. It is hardly important or affects my health."

"I too have my reasons." He said softly. When she realized that that was all he was going to say on the matter she sniffed and began muttering to herself as she moved to the window. He could barely make out one word in three but he was sure he heard the words 'fool' and 'man' together more than once.

She sighed while she gazed at the city below before turning to him and asking her next question as she bathed in the sunlight, "You are recovering?" At his nod she continued, "Was it the reason you were late?" Again he simply nodded. Maybe one day she would appreciative the irony of the situation. He was telling the truth, just not the whole truth and the information he was excluding was the most important. Exactly what one would expect from an Aes Sedai. She was not finished talking however, "Hopefully one day, and soon, you will come to understand that I am not against you, I am not your enemy and there is no need to keep things from me. Whatever else we were, we are now together, what happens to one of use happens to the other and we must begin acting like it."

He was unable to stop a bitter smile from forming as he moved across the room to the pitcher of water and poured himself a drink. "So we are partners then? We are equals?" The silence that followed as she hesitated was far more telling than anything she might have said. She had, after all, earned the shawl, it was to be expected that the views of the Aes Sedai had affected her thinking as well. Apparently they thought they were just a step below Kings and Queens in power and they weren't about to share that with anyone.

"In private…" she haltingly began before finding her voice, "in private we would be equals even if you weren't an Asha'man. In public-"

He cut her off, not wanting to hear her feebly try and explain herself, "I understand Bodewhin, I did not expect anything else from you. I was just making a point. As long as the threat of the entire Tower finding out about me hangs over my head if I leave here, I will always be, no matter what, a prisoner and you my unfortunate guard. We will never be 'together' as you put it."

She was saddened by his words, perhaps she hadn't wanted to face the reality of the situation. "It doesn't have to be that way," she said softly.

Of course it didn't, but the ghosts of the past were watching and anything else was unacceptable, at least until she proved herself worthy. "For me it does, as long as I'm denied my freedom because of this forced bond, it does. I know you are not responsible for this situation and because of that I won't embarrass you, but I won't obey you either. The White Tower is my prison as much as it is your home."

"The White Tower is not a prison," she declared absentmindedly, as if dismissing the notion out of hand. Then she nodded to herself and determination filled her gazed as she fixed him with a stare, "It seems I must be first." She said before turning and exiting the room.

"The first to what?" he asked in confusion as he followed, not sure if he was going to like this at all. She continued into the sitting room and took a seat at an expensive looking table, motioning him to do the same. He would have ignored her to, just to be stubborn, if not for the silver tray that sat in the middle of the table that was near overflowing with what appeared to be cold meats, cheese and bread. His rumbling stomach deciding for him, he took the offered seat and some cheese as he listened to her explanation.

"You do not trust me, you have no reason to. If this bond is ever going to become anything more than a burden to either of us we need to find a way to trust each other and then and only then it might become more than useful." She paused for a moment to make sure he was following, whatever she saw when she looked at him seemed to be what she wanted because she continued, "I must be the first to try and earn your trust because i know you'll make no effort to earn mine."

He smirked at the very notion, "And how do you plan on doing that?"

She shrugged and gave him a …_disturbing_ smile, like she thought he would have little choice in the matter, "I'm sure I'll find a way." In that moment she was an Aes Sedai right down to her fingernails. A few seconds later the door to her room opened without so much as a knock and through the bond he could feel Bode stiffen, alarmed, as one word escaped her lips, "Eadyth."

A/N: So what did you think? Not to many mistakes i hope. oh and the middle scene was fun to write but i have no idea if it was any good, just so you know.


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